


Burning and Broken

by CallMeHopeless (IAmNotBread)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Ass-Kicking, Blowjobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Engineering, Eventual Smut, Everyone is an asshole because First Order, F/M, Fingering, Fluff, Hux is a Dick, I mean really, Implied Torture, Making Out, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Mind Reading, Murder, Oral, Orgasms, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Porn With Plot, Sexual Tension, Sexually repressed Kylo Ren, Smut, Spaceships, Super Angst, That's Not How The Force Works, The Force, The Slowest of all Slow Burns, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, feel trip, like a lot of sexual tension, lots of yelling, mind probe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-04-20 15:17:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 47,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14263872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmNotBread/pseuds/CallMeHopeless
Summary: Being in the First Order to escape a troubled past is hard enough. But when you save the infamous Kylo Ren from certain death: a whole new set of problems emerge. As you try to navigate a maze of pressures from your advancing career; you find yourself ever at conflict with the man behind the mask.But despite your best efforts; you find yourselves drawn together. It seems now you have to reconcile the past; or face an uncertain future.





	1. The Chariot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> General Hux assigns you to fix an Upsilon-Class Ship. Things take a turn for the worse when you realise just who's ship you're fixing; but your greatest challenge is yet to come.

“I saw him.”

Your eyes drifted up to Kathar’s ecstatic face, her short hair bobbing as she pushed her plastic tray onto the table. The cafeteria sludge this afternoon was looking about as appetizing as ever; green-brown goo with the occasional lump of something that might once have passed as meat. _So much for the supposed profits on the Outer Rim._

Pushing at a stray lump with your fork, you let out a withered-sounding sigh.  
  
“Alright, I’ll bite: who’d you see?”

Kathar drummed her fingers on the metal table dramatically, trying to build up your suspense. It elicited the hint of a smile from your lips; she was always so cheery. And in somewhere this sterile? Force, you needed it.

“Kylo. Ren”.

Oh. _Oh._

That was…something. I mean, she had a tendency to find mundane things a little more exciting than you did. But…Kylo Ren? Here? That was big. That was sort of a big deal. You didn’t know the guy in any respect other than conversation, and conversation had painted a pretty terrifying picture in your mind. This huge, masked commander who liked strangling janitors and made General Hux look like he wanted to rip a freighter in half. A man so nefarious, he could _see_ thoughts. Turn brains to mush.

He was…terrifying.

“You’ve peaked my interest, Kath. I demand details”

“Well,” she coughed in excitement “I was at my station, you know. Monitoring system signs, checking on the turbocannons after that run in last week in the asteroid field. And I’m talking to Adrian about the reports from the Hosnian system, right? And he’s concerned about the numbers we got from…”

You gestured with your hand, rolling your wrist. _Skip to the juicy bits._

“Ok, ok. So, I’m sitting there at my station, and Adrian looks up. And I follow his eyesight; and BAM. The guy’s right there. He’s RIGHT THERE! He’s huge! With this big metal mask on his head, this dress-type cloak thing on. I mean, the guy’s massive; I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anyone so tall. And General Hux starts sweating like he’s wearing Bantha fur; he looks like he wants the ground to swallow him. And when he speaks, he’s got this weird voice modulator on, and he’s saying-“ Kathar cups her hand to her mouth in imitation, taking a deep breath “ _General, you’re a huge asshole_ ”.

You snort, dropping your fork.

“Oh, come on. He didn’t say that”.

Kathar rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, well. It wasn’t far from it. And well deserved, too. Hux is starting to piss me off”.

What was new? General Armitage Hux may as well have been the biggest asshole in the galaxy. The guy chewed you out when you first arrived on base a month ago for not adhering to uniform policy. Apparently, grey socks and _dark_ grey socks gave off a very different message. One that Armitage Hux was willing to pick a fight with you over, anyway.

Your comms pad dinged, vibrating slightly on the bench next to you. It was never good when that happened: either you were getting sent to fix some sort of weird malfunction well below your pay grade, or you were getting summoned to the bridge to get chewed up by Asshole Number One himself. You sighed, Kathar’s eyes following yours as you plucked the pad up, tapping in your identification key and waiting for the ominous white text to show up.

_Communications Malfunction, Upsilon-Class Shuttle 384-L. Docking Bay 7. Intake from Mamkoda._

“Duty calls?” Kathar asked, sniffing at her unappetizing plastic tray.

“Yeah…I mean, weird duty. Did we have an Upsilon-Class Shuttle intake from Mamkoda? What’s that, Stridan’s vessel?”

Kathar shrugged.

“I’m not on intake. But if it’s coming in from Mamkoda, no wonder you’re being sent to fix it. Anything I’ve seen sent into that system comes out looking worse than this lunch”.

You stuffed your comms pad into your uniform pocket, shuffling awkwardly off of the metal bench. Those things were insanely uncomfortable. You wondered if it was in a deliberate attempt to keep recruits from enjoying their time in the cantine. As though it were an experience that could be enjoyed.

“Later Kath. Good luck with the turbocannons”.

She waved, shovelling another mouthful of goop into her mouth. Her face contorted, and you felt an involuntary shudder as you watched her try to get through one of the chunks. Your boots clicked as you pushed your way to the exit between a bunch of officers; awkwardly blocking the doorway as only they knew how. It all got you wondering why you were here anyway, all things considered. You rounded the corner, hurrying down the corridor and nearly walking into two Storm Troopers hurrying toward the bridge.

_White helmets shone in the fluorescent lighting, your eyes twinkling as you tightened the bolt with your hydrospanner. Distant cheering from the other side of the glass; a small crowd watching on as bikes sped around the rocky track._

_“Tarna-Sul; who are those droids?” you asked, raising a little finger to gesture to the plastic-white figures at the counter. They were strange beings: like droids, with funny voices. But they didn’t have any bolts and seemed to be without a master._

_The twi’lek laughed, his blue lekku shaking as he put a hand on your shoulder._

_“Not droids, Little Moon. Storm Troopers. They come to bet on the bikes”._

_You tipped your head, watching as they moved through the doorway towards the track. Something about the strange man-droids made you feel a little frightened. Something intangible: like the impression of a stone in a river. A feeling in your stomach, in your chest, in your hands._

The Docking Bay was enormous: by far one of the bigger bays on The Finalizer, you had assumed. You could barely comprehend how big the docking bays must have been on The Harbinger, a ship that supposedly housed two-million people. The grandiosity terrified and intrigued you; with at least thirty TIE fighters connected at the walls, and several shuttle ships being unloaded and loaded before you. Your pace quickened as you searched for Upsilon-Class ships, hoping you hadn’t come to the wrong bay. Again.

You knew what they supposedly looked like: big pointy things. You weren’t sure if that was the mechanical term; but it was the term you would’ve used. They were based on the T-4a shuttles from the Empire Era, which probably meant they looked distinct. A small droid whirred around your legs before zipping off, nearly making you trip in all the commotion.

“384-L…” you mumbled, biting the nail on your thumb in aggravation. Where in frack’s name was the damned thing?

But your despair was short lived. The shuttle came into view; a winged ship of elegant design, the ramp already descended ready for you to enter. You checked the callsign: 384-L, the right ship. And you were only delayed by a few minutes. Too easy.

Entering, you took a look around. It was pretty enough. Efficient looking, with some clear personal modifications. You assumed Stridan had expensive tastes, because he seemed to have modified the interior to give it a classier feel than you remember seeing previously. The co-pilot area seemed to have been all but removed; and you cocked your head in confusion. Who’d fly an Upsilon-Class vessel without a co-pilot? It was doable. It was also ridiculously inefficient.

You tapped the Communications Panel on the wall, white text lighting up as you keyed in your access code. _No external damage_. You brought up system calibrations; checking through the data of the flight logs to figure out where it had sent the automated malfunction message.

_Hyperwave Comm Scanner (Input): Active, communications array functioning at maximum percentile._

_Subspace Communications Antenna (Output): Active, communications array functioning at maximum percentile._

Alright, so that was…normal. Why the frack were you getting pinged if comms were at full functionality? Was this some sort of ridiculous ploy by General Hux to get you blown into deep space?

Boots clicked on the walkway; presumably Storm Troopers doing the rounds, unloading cargo from the vessel. You rolled your shoulders, continuing to flick back through the diagnostic menus and hoping something would show up. But there was something in the back of your mind; something tugging at your memory. Something about this whole scenario that made you want to get out of here as fast as you could. Eyes on the back of your head, boring into your skull.

“Leave”.

_“Ah, but it’s you who is in my shed” the twi’lek replied, biting back a smile. You shuffled away, clutching to your cloth bundle. At age ten, it was all you had; a little cloth bag with some extra clothes, a few credits and a bit of bread. All you had in the world. Nar Shaddaa was a busy place; busy enough that small children could easily slip into swoop bike garages at night without being seen. Busy enough that a little girl with nowhere to go was one of many, shaking and cold._

_“I know how to fight people” you added, fear slipping into your voice. You shrunk back against the wall, and the twi’lek folded his arms. His clothes were very simple, and he smelled of burning oil; but his eyes had a little twinkle._

_“I’m sure you do, little one. But I’m too tired to fight. So tell me; what do you know about bike mechanics?”_

You were jolted out of your memories by the metallic clang of a voice behind you; deep and dark, spoken through a strange vocabulator. You swung around, fear clutching at your stomach.

Kylo Ren. Commander Ren. Whatever you wanted to call him, he was absolutely terrifying. Kathar hadn’t been remotely wrong. He was ridiculously tall, shoulders wide. His face was obscured by a black mask, eyes unseen from the open visor. His whole body was hidden by padded black armour and a long cloth cloak; flowing with something…unnatural. Your mouth flapped open, eyes moving to take him in. You knew you had to speak, but words were not forthcoming.

“You will leave, or you will be made to leave”.

“Commander” you began, licking your dry lips “I’m here to fix the Communications System. General Hux-“

“-I won’t ask again”.

You squeezed your hands into fists in frustration and utter terror, frozen as you pivoted on heel. Dealing with Hux would be nothing compared to this. You wanted off of this vessel as fast as your feet would take you. But as you turned to log out, you paused.

“…That’s…” you started, your brow furrowing. The diagnostic had run; and something in those numbers was very off. At first sight, you thought it was a mistake. But every column had the same blip of error, the same line of entangled code that told you this wasn’t right. Kylo Ren hadn’t said anything, which was worrying. He also hadn’t strangled you, which was refreshingly different from other stories you’d heard.

Which meant one of two things: either he had suddenly developed a tendency for forgiveness, or he was reading the same line of code you were over your shoulder.

You read it again, and again. And then opened the systems map for the ship, on some off hunch that the numbers you were seeing were legitimate.

And then, your blood ran cold.

“You need to get off the ship” you breathed, your hands suddenly shaking ridiculously hard. You swallowed, sweat smudging on the panel as you went back into diagnostics, frantically inputting variables off the top of your head.

“Report” Kylo Ren demanded, taking a step toward you.

“Our communications array is a half-kilogram overweight” you stutter.

Kylo Ren says nothing; but you feel it. He knows what you’re saying. He gets it. His ship just came from Mamkoda. You don’t even look over your shoulder, taking a deep breath as your heart pounds in your ears.

“Can it be disabled?”

_“Not once it’s been primed” Nehan choked, his blonde curls drenched in sweat and blood. His hands won’t stop shaking, and you wonder what to do. You wonder if you can be any help at all, or whether the pain ran like a river that needed a source._

_“You couldn’t have known” you whisper, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear. You’re genuinely sorry for him; he’s kind and sweet. And now he has nothing._

_“Half a kilogram in the cargo hold. And now they’re both dead. It’s all my fault”._

_It wasn’t, but that didn’t matter. You held him tight, hoping beyond all hope that he would see reason. Hoping this wasn’t the end._

You look at the screen, variables suddenly switching. Your hands move before you’re registering what you’re doing; and you throw your entire weight into Kylo Ren. You expect him to go flying, but he staggers. And staggering is enough; it’s just enough to push him through the doorframe and out of the ship. He looks back at you, and for the briefest of moments you swear you see some panic behind the mask of your Commander. You hit the emergency lock, smashing the button with the heel of your palm as the doors snap shut, you still inside the ship.

You hear a commotion outside; people yelling. But all you can make out is the sound of blood pounding in your ears as you throw down the switch to tighten the hull; your eyes watering and throat choking as you look up at the screen.

You really, really don’t want to die.  
A bright light fills the room; searing hot and piercingly loud.

And then, there is nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first Ao3 fic! Hello world. Big shout out to all of my fabulous Tumblr followers who have come here from yonder. You're cool and I love you.
> 
> I'll continue to update this fic as I proceed through it; changing the tags and ratings and like. I anticipate it getting pretty steamy, but it's the slowest of slow burns. Angst city, all aboard. I'll also be trying to be as canon compliant as possible (although obviously taking some liberties with the characters, because duh). I'll include a rundown of canonical terms you may not be familiar with below, or explaining some of the planets and such. I'm drawing on some inspiration from the Extended Canon if I don't have anything to go on from my knowledge of canon; a good example of this is Nar Shaddaa, which doesn't get a lot of screentime or explanation in regular canon. So I've drawn many of my settings for that from SWTOR. Corrections welcome! I want this to be a good experience for canon-lovers and those here for the good times alike.
> 
> Glossary:
> 
> Mamkoda: A planet in the Trans-Hydian Borderlands, which is a neutral territory used by both factions in the war as a sort of smuggling highway. Mamkoda itself is home to some nasty pirates, and has been privy to a lot of First Order / Republic struggling.
> 
> Nar Shaddaa: a big old Outer Rim planet controlled by The Hutt. It's basically a giant city. Living there is sort of the worst, and it's a crime hub.
> 
> Stridan: A Major in the First Order. Drives an Upsilon-Class Shuttle.
> 
> Swoop Bikes: Swoop Swoop! A popular sport, particularly in The Old Republic. People drive really fast around tracks and try not to die. Dangerous but fun!
> 
> T4-A: Lambda-Class Shuttle. The Empire's version of an Upsilon Shuttle.
> 
> TB-47 Bomb: I didn't specifically mention it, but that was the explosion. It's a timed bomb used by hitmen and pirates; I've jiggled with the canon somewhat to include it. The average weight of similar bombs was about 500g, so that's what I went for.
> 
> Upsilon-Class Shuttle: It's the main type of shuttle you'll see in the new movies that Kylo Ren pilots. The big one with the sticky-out wings. It usually recommends two people piloting it, but Kylo Ren is sort of a loner asshole, so I wanted to play into that. For communications, they use a Hyperwave Comms Scanner and a Subspace Communications Antenna.
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr for more similar works! www.callmehopeless.tumblr.com


	2. The Hierophant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're alive. General Hux is more pleased than you'd expect. Kylo Ren is an ungrateful jackass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Violence
> 
> Just a little warning that this chapter has some Mind Probe usage in it. It's the power Kylo uses against Rey and Poe in TFA. Naturally it's pretty unpleasant, so I thought it'd be best to give a head's up!

_The night air stung your nostrils, the scent of smog and rust clinging to your clothes. Nights on Nar Shaddaa were warm; the effect of a world covered by urban sprawl, no doubt. You swung your legs slightly, your feet dangling over the edge of the corrugated roofing, a sheer drop to the concrete below._

_“Don’t you ever want off this shithole?” Nehan asks, taking a swig from his canteen flask. You notice the swelling on his lip, little purple bruises under his nose. He never could pick his fights._

_“All the time. Every day”. The words spill out with more emotion than you’d expected; Nehan’s silver eyes drift to your face at the admission._

_“What’s stopping you?”_

_You shrug. “Tarna-Sul. The bike shop. Lack of money. Fear of leaving. Take your pick”._

_He clicks his tongue, head tilting upward towards the sky. The stars are barely visible under the weight of all the pollution; the only lights being passing orbital ships, or Hutt satellite crafts patrolling the planetary boundaries. He looks wistful, you think; and you wonder what’s stopping him. He’s 16: and there’s plenty of work, if you know where to look for it. The Exchange, The Hutts, the First Order. If you’re desperate enough. If you’ve got nothing to lose._

_“I just want it all to mean something, you know? Even if it’s just this. Even if it’s just taking con jobs for Yodda and trying not to get my skull caved in. I just want to be able to say that it’s meant something.”_

_He’s lonely, nowadays. He doesn’t talk about it much – and you don’t ask. But you just know. You know these things, and you know him. You want to tell him he has you, and that you’ll always be here. If you have eachother, it’ll all be alright._

_But you don’t do that. Instead, you reach out, thumb gliding against where his hand creases on the metal. It’s warm and scarred, but it’s comfort. It’ll all be alright, you tell yourself. You’ll make it. Every day, you’ll keep trying. And after enough days – it’ll stop feeling so hard._

_As long as this isn’t the end._

 

You can’t make sense of it, though.

The darkness. Nothingness, stretching on and on, endless as that Nar Shaddaa sky. You tried to move, tried to speak. Tried to reach out and grasp something tangible. But in the end, you just kept drifting; not knowing how long this endless darkness would envelop you.

And then, all at once: everything hurt.

Light fluttered through your vision as you felt your eyelids open slowly, the dryness of your eyes making it an incredible effort to keep them there. Your body was somehow both numb and searingly painful; every sensation that returned filling you with relief and dread. What the hell had happened? Your memory was a rough haze. Were you dead? Had you died? Holy shit, you really hoped you weren’t dead.

Movement skimmed through your line of sight, a slow blur morphing into the shape of a person. Muffled sounds; like hearing a clanging on the hull of your ship. You reached out, twitching…a finger? It seemed like a finger, but you couldn’t be certain.

“..you hear me?” a voice slurred into focus. It was difficult to concentrate on, but you put in your best effort. A woman came into view: a dark complexion and long, black hair pinned back on her head. White, padded coat with the standard military fare on the left breast: a military doctor, as they all were here on The Finalizer.

The Finalizer! It was all coming back to you now.

You must have responded; the woman smiled sweetly, dimples pinching at the corners of her mouth. Her fingers moved quickly, typing in something to her communications pad. She looked you over, peeling back your sheets slightly to take a look at how you were faring.

“Welcome back, Lieutenant. It’s a relief to have you still with us”.

You opened your mouth, feeling just how dry it was. Force, it was like Tatooine in the dry season in there. You wheezed, parsing your lips together and feeling the rough skin meeting there.

“What happened?” you croaked. Your voice sounded terrible. Honestly, you were surprised you were alive, given the circumstances.

The doctor raised a brow, shifting through her communications pad. She pinched, loading up your medical charts as she sniffed.

“Well…According to your medical scans, and the testimony of other crew: you stared down a rigged TB-47 bomb. Which I would see as incredibly brave – if you weren’t supposed to be dead. Doctor Sontiro, by the way”.

You shifted your weight in the bed, trying to get a better angle. Big mistake. Incredible pain shot through your torso; the feeling of your body screaming out as you tried desperately to stifle one yourself. It came out as a rather pathetic whimper, which lead Dr Sontiro to put a hand on your leg to still you.

“I would try not to move, as a heads up. You’ve got second degree burns on your legs and torso, three broken ribs, and enough lacerations and bruising to cause a pretty big concern about infection. All things considered, though: it’s miraculous. The interior of that shuttle looked like something out of a rancor exhibit. As I said, you should be dead”.

Should be dead. Rancor exhibit. _Lacerations._ You were feeling positively nauseous.

“Did…” you started, your brain a soup of information too difficult to process “…How long have I been in here? Was everyone alright?” A memory flashed into your vision; you bowling into the Commander, him staggering forward in a blur of movement.

Dr Sontiro nodded, her lips twisting upward.

“You’ve been here just over two days. You’ll be relieved to hear there were only three injured parties. You, one of our Trooper cadets, and Commander Ren”.

_Oh._

“Luckily, the Trooper sustained very minor injuries. Commander Ren had some lacerations, but was otherwise discharged. From what I hear, you saved his life”.

You didn’t know what to say. You looked down at your hands; covered in purple welts and scratches. You ached; but you were alive. And for a brief moment back there, you had been absolutely certain that it would all be over. That this really was the end. How the hell had you survived a TB-47 bomb? Those things were deadly. Bounty hunter favourites, so you’d heard.

Dr Sontiro looked over her shoulder, hearing some commotion outside your door. You tried to look around her, but she blocked your view of the exit.

“You’ll be free to leave tomorrow, with any luck. You'll need to come back to have your bandages changed, though. And no crazy heroics until then, understood?"

"Awesome, yeah. Thanks Doc. You're a lifesaver".

Dr Sontiro flashed a wink, turning on heel to sort out whatever was going on in the corridor. You couldn't make out much of the yelling, but you wondered whether that was a common theme around here. You didn't understand half of what was going on; and yet, somehow, you'd just saved the Commander of the First Order from getting turned into smoothie. _Not bad for a rookie Lieutenant._

Time moved fairly swiftly; you ate your fair share of rubbery food, direct from the cantina. Today's special: synthsteak. Always with the synthsteak. You chewed slowly, wishing that bomb really had taken you out. Force; you could cook better than this, and you'd been raised by a man who believed the answer to every meal was "more munch-fungus on more things". Still, you swallowed it down, despite the aching protest from your bruised ribs. Sleep was forthcoming; and when you woke in the morning, you felt remarkably ready to get the hell out of here.

Dr Sontiro handed you her comms pad; getting you to input your code for the discharge papers. You skimmed them, but it was the usual medical jargon. She smiled, dimples pressing into her cheeks.

"Before you go - General Hux requested you on the Bridge when you were discharged. He didn't specify why".

 _Ugh._ You weren't convinced that you had survived that blast after all; because this seemed like the eternal nightmare. Waving goodbye, you exited with a heavy weight in your stomach; and not just from the lacerations and bruising. Every step towards the Bridge made your lungs ache, the burns on your legs stiff and stinging violently. You must have looked a sight; uniform barely covering a myriad of sins.

General Hux looked constantly irked. Red hair slicked back, beady eyes set into red sockets. The man was every bit as menacing as Kylo Ren had been; and every bit as willing to destroy those who minorly inconvenienced him. You approached, looking down from the platform. Your eyes connected with Kathar's for a second, her dark hair pulled back and her eyes darting between you and Hux as she looked up from her console. She sheepishly smiled, a silent prayer in her head. _Good luck._

"Ah, Lieutenant" Hux clasped his hands together behind his back, boots clicking as he made his way to you "you're still with us, I see".

You'd have expected those words to come from any other human with some level of compassion; but it seemed as though Hux were unable to convey anything that wasn't a combination of slight annoyance and conceited self-assurance. You weren't really sure how to react, and so you chose not to react at all.

Hux seemed unfazed by the whole interaction.

"As it were, there are matters to discuss. You saved Ren's life. A matter that makes you...distinct".

Was he...was he displeased? He sounded genuinely displeased. You'd saved Kylo Ren's life, and General Hux was...displeased about it? Maybe Kathar hadn't exaggerated that bizarre interaction she claimed to have witness.

"Sir?" you asked, your voice still hoarse.

"You deserve commendation; commendation that ought to be Ren's to deliver, no? In the switchboard room, two doors down. No doubt he wishes to thank his rescuer, and you wish for some compensation for your heroism".

 _Uh oh. Sarlacc pit. Sarlacc pit!_ You could see exactly where this was going to go. You could tell by the way Hux's lips were pinched up at the corners in an unflattering sneer, his nostril's flared like he was about to start a fire right here on the Bridge. 

_"I won't be a pawn in your game" Tarna-Sul spat, yellow eyes spitting defiance from behind the bar. The Officers looked unnerved; this interaction wasn't going the way they'd expected it to, not even a little._

_"With all due respect, sir" the shorter of the two coughed, gloved hand leaning on the counter "you can't outrun your debts forever".  
_

_You froze in your seat, your eyes darting Tarna-Sul's face, his composure waning.  
_

_"Get. Out."_

_The Officers picked up their things; comms pads and hats, the taller one sliding his empty cup across the table. They fumbled at the door, exiting with a courtesy nod._

_Tarna-Sul stood up, shaking, legs unstable as he moved through the opposite door, into the garage. You thought of following him for a moment; instead, you exited after the Officers._

_Rain poured, acidic from the Nar Shaddaa sky. You could barely see, but the Officers were still there, waiting for their transport._

_You licked your lips, breathing hard._

"Wait" you breathed, your hands a little shaky. General Hux looked irked, his brows beginning to knit together "I don't need thanks. Knowing that my actions helped the First Order-"

"-This wasn't a request". 

You nodded. Shit. This was going to suck. You mumbled a 'yes, sir' and quickly made off to the switchboard room. Which was...literally two doors down. Not enough time for you to think. Maybe that was a good thing, because the door automatically opened, and he was just...standing there. Tall as anything, hood up, big metal mask. You weren't sure what you were expecting: you'd seen him once before. But you'd sort of assumed you'd get used to it by now. He was keying something into one of the panels; the room was empty, aside from two maintenance droids beeping away.

"Sir" you started, realising every interaction you had with him seemed to be along similar lines "I hope I'm not interrupting".

He slowly turned, hands dropped to his sides. You could see where the cloth on his cloak had been torn slightly; you wondered if that had been the grenade.

He said nothing, and you felt your stomach drop. Fuck. Was he...was he about to freak out? You really hoped not. That would not be the cherry on top of a great week.

"Hux... _General_ Hux asked me to speak with you".

"Did he?" Kylo Ren's voice permeated the air between you, his modulator adding a thick and menacing layer to his words.

You straightened.

"I'm..." you swallowed, dry lump caught in your throat "...it's good to see you're alright, sir". 

"He sent you here to be commended". It sounded bizarre; like a rhetorical question. As though he was putting it together, the pieces fitting into place.

"You're alive. How?" he asked.

You felt strange. Very strange. A sudden feeling of cold, dizzying and weird. You shook it off, gritting your teeth.

"I don't know how".

_Liar._

But the voice wasn't yours; it wasn't coming from you. It was all around you; a funny thing. A voice you'd never heard. 

"You did only what was expected of you" Kylo Ren added, his monotone voice slicked with anger "what was _required_ of you".

And in that moment, you realised: you fucking hated Kylo Ren. You'd saved his life, and for what? To be told it was a requirement? That was some real fine print bottom-line shit. No question; you'd signed up to the First Order knowing their mandate. No question; you knew the risks. You weren't here for the reward, you were here for a job. But you'd be damned if you were going to be treated like this by anybody. It was childish. 

The words came out of your mouth with such venom, such utter exhaustion and pain that you found yourself shocked as your mouth moved.

"Well, thank you, Commander. This has all been enlightening".

And that's when you felt a very different pressure; an intense burning, an incredible force on the insides of your skull. You staggered against the wall, throwing your hands out to steady yourself. The world seemed to vibrate; the pain was more intense than any broken rib could be. You cried out, the sensation too incredible for you to stifle yourself.

_No._

_"The Force is all around us" your mother whispered, her eyes wide. "Where you go, it goes. It lives in all of us; in our choices. In the people we choose to be. It is the balance between all things. Some people think of a power, but it doesn't belong to you. Or to me"._

_"But I'm afraid"._

_"I'll help you" your uncle added, sliding down onto the grass beside you. His hands were so big, cupping your sharp shoulders. You wanted to be a Jedi, just like him. Just like..._

The pain immediately stopped, and you crumpled, your hands falling out to catch you. They hurt as you landed, bruises on your palms painful on the impact. Everything was spinning: you felt weird, your mind tangled and hazed. You were confused; everything was wrong.

Your mother was dead. You didn't have an uncle.

"How..." Kylo Ren began, his modulator cracking with heaved breaths "...Did you..."

You didn't even think. A rush of adrenaline took over, and you bolted for the door; chest heaving as you vanished from his sight.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. How about them apples? Hux is a huuuuuuge dick for putting you in that scenario. Kylo Ren is also a huuuuge dick, because...mind probe? Really? That's pretty cruel, man. Still, don't fret. I think you shook him up pretty well there; and from here on in, you're going to be giving better than you get. 
> 
> Mad thanks for the kudos / bookmarks / feedback! I love you guys!
> 
> Glossary:
> 
> Mind Probe: Kylo Ren's favourite ability. It's similar to the Force Sensitive ability Telekinesis, but instead it's a Dark-Side power that allows you access to someone's brain. You can search for information, and if you're as good at it as Kylo Ren is (he's considered VERY good at it) you can cause them literal pain. It can be resisted and even countered by Force Sensitives though.
> 
> Munch-Fungus: A Twi'lek favourite food. It goes with just about anything Twi'leks like to eat.
> 
> Rancor: That big guy Luke has to fight in Episode 6. He successfully kills it. Most people...aren't so lucky.
> 
> Sarlacc Pit: How did Boba Fett die, you ask? Spoilers: this is how.
> 
> Synthsteak: What it says on the packet. It's a synthetic steak used for interspace travel and long distance. Mmmm. Delicious.
> 
> The Exchange: Crime syndicate who like to do semi-bad things. They operate out of Nar Shaddaa, and are mostly seen in the SWTOR canon.


	3. The Wheel Of Fortune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected shift assignment sends your blood boiling. You decide to let Kylo Ren know just how pissed off you are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Panic attacks!
> 
> It's very brief, but there is a panic attack in this chapter. They're pretty unpleasant, so that's a heads up. Also, Kylo Ren is LESS of a dick, but he's still...yeah. He's working on it.

Three days after your meeting with Kylo Ren; nothing felt the same.

You'd been given an easy time of it, in those passing days. Bridge assignments, translation of short-range messages. Dr Sontiro had ordered you away from any stressful activity; but was positively ecstatic about your remarkable healing. A lovely bruise still dominated the left side of your face; big and shiny, swelling still puckering your eyelid. The burns on your legs required continual bacta bandages, but they were looking less angry by the day.

Kathar saw you as some sort of paragon; you weren't quite sure yet whether it was because you'd almost sacrificed yourself, or whether you had done it for Kylo Ren. Adrian had begun sitting at your table in the cantine, and he had friends in the Trooper program. It was nice; the added company. It almost helped you forget.

Forget that Kylo Ren had tried to invade your mind.  
Forget what you had seen.  
Forget the shock in his voice.

But, three days on, as you pinned your hair and adjusted your uniform ready for the morning shift; you heard a slight rap on the door to your cabin. An unusual thing, a genuine knock. Most people aboard The Finalizer would have comm'd in before they knocked.

You dropped a pin, cursing under your breath as you walked to the door and hit the lock.

A trooper cadet stood alone; white helmet affixed as stood to attention.

"Ma'am" he began, and his voice sounded a little breathy. Nervousness?

"Can I help you? Am I needed on the Bridge?"

The trooper raised a hand as though to scratch the back of his head. His fingertips made contact with his helmet instead, an audible _tap_. He realised his mistake immediately, and dropped his arm with an awkward _thud_.

"It's...I was in the hangar. That day when the bomb went off. You...You saved my life".

 _Oh. This was THAT cadet._ The injured cadet Dr Sontiro had mentioned while you were coming around.

You suddenly felt...awkward. Was that the right term? You could feel your heart drop a little, shuffling slightly in your boots.

"Did General Hux send you to me? He's been doing that a lot".

"No!" the trooper barked "No. It was...really brave. And I wanted to come down here to say...Just to say thanks. Captain Phasma said something about wishing she had a hundred like you, and I thought...Maybe you should know. I appreciate it. And I'm sure Commander Ren does, too".

That hit you like ice water to the face. You must've looked uncomfortable, because you felt the trooper change his stance slightly.

"Thank you. I mean it. Its been a crazy few days, but...thank you".

The trooper nodded, taking a step back and turning to head back down the corridor.

"Wait!" you called "what's your callsign?"

The trooper spun around, stumbling catastrophically as a mouse droid weaved through his legs. You stifled a chuckle, and it lifted your spirits somewhat.

"I...Eight-Seven".

You gave him a thumbs up, smiling to yourself as you shut the door. You had to be honest; it was one of the more enjoyable interractions of the last few days. You had missed just...being. Just being you, for the sake of being you. Missed seeing dorky interactions and ridiculous stunts. The First Order was, truthfully, one hell of an organisation to work for. Never boring, but often sterile. Dark corridors and serious faces. You valued the scattered faces in your life that were keeping you sane: Kathar, Adrian, Eight-Seven, Sontiro. Real people.

_"How fast can this thing go?!"  Nehan cried out, his voice all but deafened by the engine of the swoop bike. You grinned, kicking at the accelerator and feeling the bike kick up a gear. The track blurred; the world was spinning as your hair whipped across your cheek, uncontained by a helmet. You knew that if Tarna-Sul saw you not wearing one, he'd throw the galaxy's biggest fit. But you loved it; loved the sting in your eyes._

_Nehan's leather gloved hands reached around your waist; holding you tightly as you gripped the handlebars. These things were NOT built for two people. But the galaxy sucked, and life was short, and in that moment - for a brief moment in Nar Shaddaa's long and dismal history - two humans felt truly alive._

You missed Nehan, every day. If he was here right now, he'd laugh like hell over the state you were in. Black eye, broken ribs. Hair pinned on one side. You were a sight.

Your comms pad bleeped. You groaned, pushing your index fingers to your temple and massaging it. You had gotten off lightly with no real assignments over the last few days - but it looked like the good times were coming to an end. You picked up the pad from its home beside your bed, haphazardly pushing in your passcode.

_Unspecified Requirement, Upsilon-Class Shuttle 384-M. Docking Bay 2._

_Upsilon-Class Shuttle. No requirement. No intake form._

Well, Kylo Ren was probably about to murder you. That was cheery.

You really, really didn't want to take the assignment. But there was no way out of it; you knew that. Trying to get Hux to re-assign you opened a whole can of worms that you didn't want to have to open. Even if Hux took you seriously; you doubted the man would actually be happy to help you. He wasn't known for his tactful behaviour. You had no idea why you'd be assigned to fix this problem; if there was a problem. The menu wasn't letting you see who _gave_ the order, which cemented your suspicion that this wasn't a routine check to program the translator.

 _Do or die_. Or both.

You squared your shoulders, plucking up the pin you'd dropped on the floor and sliding it in place.

_Go time._

 

You arrived at Docking Bay 2 about ten minutes early, which may as well have been a personal best. Weirdly, this bay was much smaller than 7; and seemed to almost entirely house ships used by high-ranking officers. A few troopers rushed around, patching up one particularly weathered looking ship. By the hull, it looked like it was coming in from a pretty severe battering; likely a transport ship from the Outer Rim.

384-M was the only Upsilon-Class Shuttle you could see, and was brand-spanking new. Great. Great stuff. The ramp was down, and your blood felt insanely cold. Your heart seemed to have lodged itself in your throat; but you were determined. Every step you took felt like walking in zero gravity, but you boarded the ship, boots clicking on the ramp as you ascended.

Inside, it was dark. But as you'd anticipated; a cloaked figure sat in the pilot's chair. You felt your hands tremble, but you steadied them. No. You would not let this man intimidate you.

"I was assigned to this ship."

The words left your mouth, and you were instantly proud of yourself. You sounded calm, controlled. Fearless. Bitter, maybe. But for good reason.

"You were". Kylo Ren's modulator hinted at nothing; emotion, if it existed, was lost in the exchange.

"Tell me what I need to do" you swallowed "so that I can get this over with".

The 'with' comes out a little shaky, but _damn_. You were killing it. Too bad you were about to die. Or at the very least, get mind-tortured again.

He pauses, for a moment. You hear the crease of his leather gloves; and before you know it, the ramp is snapping closed.

All of your hard earned composure dissipates. The realisation that you're stuck in a remade version of a shuttle that nearly killed you, with a man who tried to invade your mind; it has a weirdly compounding effect. Stars blot at your vision; you swallow back bile that threatens to make you hurl.

"Sit" he says.

But "sit" doesn't register with you; or with your panicked mind. Instead, your brain does what it feels is best for your safety; and decides to make your knees buckle. You crumple like a deactivated droid, oxygen leaving your lungs. You land on your back, laying on the cold floor of the shuttle. You can taste blood, and your head is spinning from you breathing too hard.

Kylo Ren doesn't say anything, but he rises to his feet, cloak trailing.

"Breathe".

He says it through his modulator, so it sounds like a command. But you could swear, just for an instant; it also sounded vaguely compassionate. As though he were trying to keep you calm. He says nothing, but stands there; watching. Breathing. And slowly, you start to feel a little better. A little more in control. Your body feels numb, but you're getting there.

"You..." you gasped "...I saved your life. And as a thanks, you tried to torture me". The stress that had just overcome you does nothing to stifle the bitterness in your voice; more accusatory than you'd heard yourself sound in a long time.

"Yes".

Your brows creased. "Why?"

Kylo Ren took a step toward you; your eyes followed him warily from your position on the floor.

"How did you do it?" he asked, almost to himself.

"I didn't _do_ anything" you spit, shuffling up against the cold steel of the wall. It calms your nerves, draining the heat from your rattled bones.

"You _resisted."_

You could have laughed.

_Your father was a good man. Honest. A pilot working to deliver aid to areas devastated by the Empire; looking to heal the broken scars in the world. You remembered little of him, but his face was that of a compassionate human. He spoke softly, calmly, and often he would read to you. Books from all the places in the galaxy; everywhere he'd been. He'd always talk about the way the universe was a network; interconnected. Like circuits on a droid. Break one link, and the droid doesn't function right. It needs to be balanced._

_"My grandfather was a very special man" he once told you. "He saved a lot of people. He saw the Force around him; he used it to help people"._

_You smiled a gummy smile, reaching out to touch the fabric of a book on a nearby table. So few books in the galaxy; so few physical pages. To hold one was an experience, even for a child so young as you._

_"How do you learn to do that?"_

_Your father smiled, shaking his head and taking the book from your hands. Your fists flailed as you tried to grab it from him._

_"It's inside all of us. But some people feel it better"._

_You wondered if your father had always known, even then. Known what you would come to know later; what you had found deep within yourself long after he had passed away._

"You know how I did it", you respond. 

And just like that; you're gaining ground. You feel it; the way the tide shifts beneath you. Commander Ren, leader of the First Order. Perplexed.

The silence is deafening. He says nothing, but you can feel him staring at you. Feel the eyes behind his mask, dead on your face. He's reading you, or trying to; you can feel the tug on the Force he's trying to hide. He's not trying to punch his way through your subconscious this time, though; he's trying to walk through softly, unseen. You feel thoughts surfacing, memories pulling at your subconscious-

"-Stop". You grit your teeth, hissing as you glare at him, your eyes hoping to convey what is lost on your lips.

"You felt that".

"Yes. Stay out of my head."

Kylo Ren moves to a console opposite you, tapping on the command keys. All you can see in the dark of the ship is his outline; so tall and imposing that it cuts through the shadows.

"I need a co-pilot".

You make a noise. The audacity of the whole situation makes you feel like falling into hysterics, somewhere between laughter and yelling. _He's insane._ You push yourself up with your palm, staggering to your feet. Still a little wonky on your toes, but your strength is coming back. You stride to the door release, hitting it forcefully. The hatch slowly opens, ramp descending.

"Ask someone who goes above and beyond what's _required_ of them". You sigh, slowly descending the ramp. You're sick of this; you're sick of him. Whatever. He's an asshole, and you're over it. You'll happily take this garbage up with Hux at this point. The light of the hangar is momentarily disorienting, but you take a deep breath.

"We'll clear his debt", Kylo Ren calmly says, vocabulator buzzing. You barely hear him, but you freeze in place, half way down the ramp. Your palms start to sweat.

"What?"

"All of it. He'll be free. We'll clear everything".

And just like that; you turn to face the shuttle's interior; the darkness sprawling out. He's found it; he's found the ten in the Pazaak pack.

"If I do it" you swallow "if I do this, I need assurances. I need to know I'll be safe. I need to know you'll make good on your promises".

Silence.

"I won't harm you. Not again".

You nod, breathing deeply. You close your eyes, feeling your ears burning, your heart aching.

"I'll do it".

He says nothing, but you know he's heard. You know it's enough, and your boots click on the ramp, descending to the hangar floor.

But you have one more question, and you feel it pressing at the edges of your mind.

"Why me?" you call up the ramp, your voice echoing around you "why not any other Officer?"

You hear his boots moving around in the ship, unseen. A beeping control panel, and the hum of the shuttle beginning to start up. You step backward slightly, hot air starting to blast from the exhaust vent.

Just as you think you won't get an answer, you hear his voice. But it's strange; the voice. As though he's taken his helmet off. Deep, throaty, softer than you'd expected.

"You don't hesitate".

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Earning Kylo Ren's respect is a tough thing. You're a real champ. Shout out for sticking up for yourself.  
> Next chapter? We bring out the fluff guns. We get into the juicy stuff. I hope you're pumped.
> 
> Glossary:
> 
> Bacta: a miraculous healing goop. It's featured in big ol swimmy tanks a lot in the Star Wars series.
> 
> Eight-Seven: Google him!
> 
> Pazaak: A cool little card game! It's very similar to Blackjack, but with slightly different rules. It's played pretty often on Takodana, in Maz's castle. Featured in Kotor and Kotor 2.


	4. Temperance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're Kylo Ren's co-pilot. You aren't thrilled, but there might be more to the man than meets the eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I present to you: FLUFF 1.0
> 
> Oh, and CW: Injuries. Yay for that.

_At night; your dreams became strange._

_Darkness enveloped you, curtains across your vision like the shadow of an eclipse. The world was blurred; your hands, when you regarded them, looked as though they were being seen through hail. The only light you could see was very, very far away. Far from you, and cold. When you tried to reach for it, you heard a symphony of voices: voices you had never heard. Voices that echoed through the great expanse of nothing, reverberating in your head, overlapping one another with a sense of urgency._

_"You can stand to see the Imperial flag reign across the galaxy?"_

_"It's not a problem if you don't look up."_

_"Let me give you some advice. Assume everyone will betray you and you will never be disappointed."_

_"I hate it, but there's nothing I can do about it right now... It's all such a long way from here."_

_"There is always hope, my friend, though it often comes in forms not looked for."_

_"Did you come back to say you forgive me? To save my soul?"_

_You  would whip around, trying to run anywhere. Out, away, back to the comfort of your bunk. The voices would grow louder; pain and defiance. A piercing noise would split the scene in half; red light enveloping everything. You always tried to scream; but you never hear yourself. You're alone. You've never been more alone._

 

 

You were falling asleep at the metal table at dinner one night; the cantine buzzing as you shifted your weight off of your wrist. Kathar had been delayed - something about a blast shield malfunction - and so you'd been eating alone. The exhaustion was palpable; you could feel your brain trying to command you to give in to sleep. But you needed to see some normal human beings, and you needed to eat some goop to keep you turning to a pile of it yourself. 

Her brown ponytail bounced as she slid up to the booth, Adrian following at her heel. He may as well have been a kath hound at this point, following her anywhere she went. You wondered whether there was something more to it; but no doubt, you'd find out if anything came of it. 

"I'm sorry! There was this...thing. General Hux went ballistic. I thought he was going to throw Thilo out of the airlock!"

You rubbed at your eyes.

"Thilo? But he's such a polite guy. How'd he piss off Hux that bad?"

"Everyone pisses off Hux that bad".

You snorted, taking a sip of water from one of the canteen mugs. How did they even manage to make the water taste bad?

"So!" she slammed her fist down on the table, making the cutlery jump. Adrian looked at her fearfully, clearly in the same mindset as you were about loud noise and excess frights tonight "Details, details. Everyone's asking what it's like working with _Commander Ren_ ".

You had to resist letting your eyes roll out of the back of your head. This had become everyone's favourite subject. You had no idea why it should be; it was, for the most part, you flicking switches and sitting in silence. It was hardly the rollercoaster of excitement they were all playing it up to be.

"Fine. It's...fine. Uneventful. Kind of weird".

Kathar pouts, and you can feel that wasn't a satisfactory answer.

"Is..." Adrian begins, licking his lips and leaning in "...What does he look like?"

In truth, you had no idea. The guy never took off that huge metal mask, or the thick gloves. Even when he'd leave the engine running, and you'd slip your padded overcoat off; he'd be there, completely suited up. You imagined it was for posterity more than anything, but you supposed it could very well be because he was hideous. Wait, weren't Sith supposed to enjoy being hideous? Was he even Sith? You weren't sure what he was. It seemed you'd learned nothing about the guy, except his piloting was better than you'd expected, but his targeting calibrations were much, much worse.

"I couldn't tell you; he never takes the damn mask off".

Adrian looks disappointed, and Kathar holds out her hand. He seems to hand her something, and you raise a brow.

She coughs.

"We've got a bet going on the Bridge. Me, Adrian, Lopi, H'seth, Barker and Yehn are in the running".

Your brow raises even higher, and you gesture for her to continue.

"I think he's about 50, and he wears the mask because he's got serious dad-face".

You don't even know what dad-face is, but you do bark out a laugh. In truth, you'd never actually thought about his age; you'd just assumed he was...old. Old enough to make everyone here afraid of him; and so he had to be pretty old to have that level of authority. 

"Adrian?"

Adrian looks around nervously, seemingly worried he's going to get caught saying something he shouldn't.

"Well" he licks his lips "I mean...I heard a rumor. That he's the son of some Republic diplomat. And that he's really young. He's young young. Not much older than us sort of young".

Kathar rolls her eyes.

"What, so you think a guy who has a Republic diplomat for a mother is going to be Commander of the First Order? Use your brain, Adrian".

Adrian's cheeks flush red, and you shrug, picking up your fork and dropping it onto your tray with a _clang_.

"I'll cut you a deal; I'll find out for you tomorrow. But I want a cut of the winnings. Or at the very least, I want my laundry taken to the shoot for the rest of the week".

Kathar actually lights up, and she holds out her hand and spits on it, spit running down her fingers as she holds it steady for you to shake.

"Why are you the way that you are?" you laugh.

 

 

Starlight protruded through the window of the cockpit as you picked at the rind of your orange, your foot tapping at the emergency break pedal impatiently. You were somewhere near Starkiller Base, and it seemed as though Kylo Ren was sending a whirl of commands through the comms computer. It felt strange, watching somebody else sending communications; that was, after all, the job you'd been contracted to do. But, whatever. This was a pretty easy job, when it came down to it. Wake up, get into shuttle. Let Kylo Ren drive around, hold the shuttle steady while he sent communications, fix whatever needed fixing, go back to The Finalizer. Eat dinner, sleep, repeat. 

He didn't talk much. I mean, really. He would iterate commands and ask you to relay whatever was on your screen; but for the most part, he seemed totally unfazed by you. There were a few times he'd gotten irritated by you being slow to do a task, and you'd seen the way his fist would clench against his side. But what was he going to do? Tear into you? Then he'd have no co-pilot. You were beginning to get the sense that his comments about you only doing 'what was required' were not a good approximation of what he actually thought.

So that was why, with Kathar's comments in mind, you took a deep breath and stared intently at your orange.

"Where are you from?" you ask, spinning the orange around in your hand.

You hear his fingers pause typing, but then he resumes. His favourite pastime; pretending he hadn't heard you.

"Well, I'll start. I'm from-"

"-Nar Shaddaa". He interjected, modulator conveying his cold voice.

You smiled smugly.

"I'm not, actually. And you've read my dossier. That's cheating".

He really did stop typing then; you heard him close the comms pad down. The sound of his boots echoes, and he took a seat in the pilot's chair, the leather creasing. You could see the way his cloak flowed around the seat, and your eyes jumped back to your orange.

" _Gatalenta_ " you remarked, putting emphasis on the vowels. You weren't sure whether his planetary geography was up to scratch, or whether he'd know anything about your homeworld. Whether he'd even know it was real.

"Tea".

You swore you'd misheard him.

"What?"

"Gatalenta tea".

You actually felt the corners of your mouth dragging upward, a little memory of a time long ago. 

"Where are you from?" you asked again, this time turning to look at him. He staring out of the window, and it might've been the first time you'd ever seen him still. Calm.

He paused for a long while, looking down at his knees and then back up at the window again.

"Chandrila".

You couldn't help but look a little shocked. Chandrila was a Core World. Staunchly Republic-aligned. Not the sort of place you'd expect the Commander of the First Order to hail from.

_Maybe Adrian was right after all._

Kylo Ren's head snapped around, startling you slightly. His masked face reading yours, he tipped his head a little. Like some sort of animal. It was a strange thing to do with no warning; and you felt a little put out.

"About what?" he asked, modulator clicking.

You felt your blood rush in your veins again; feelings of concern creeping back.

"I thought I told you to stop doing that" you hissed, putting your orange down on the arm of your chair. Everything smelled of orange now; which wasn't at all unpleasant.

"Accidental".

_Your back was pushed against the garage wall; eyes fixed on your hydrospanner. Two twists and the bike would be good to go.  
But you heard his voice through the walls, then. Heard it all around you, in the very fabric of your mind._

_"If they carve me up, I don't know what'll happen to her. My poor Little Moon."_

_You should have been afraid. But you couldn't be, somehow. It would all be alright. As long as it wasn't the end._

You swallowed, nodding slightly. You understood. How could you not understand, with the things you'd heard? The things you'd seen?

Before you knew what was happening, your head surged forward; thudding against the dashboard slightly as you did. A beep went off at the back of the ship: two warning beeps, letting you know that it wasn't a ship. Debris had flown by, sending you both rocketing forward as it hit the ship on the nose. You groaned, pinching at the bridge of your nose. You seemed unhurt, although the previously almost healed bruise on your eye was probably not thankful for any of this. It had been a shock; nothing more.

You looked over at Kylo Ren, who was sitting up straight. But as he leaned back, he brushed a gloved hand over the back of his neck. Even through his cloak, his gloved hand came away wet with blood. The picture didn't fit in your mind, until you saw the back of his seat; one of the pieces of metal had come away, and was sticking where his neck would have been when the debris passed.

"Shit!" you gasped, stumbling over your chair to grab the medkit in the back.

"It's nothing" he insisted, rubbing his fingers together as the blood smeared across his hands.

It clearly wasn't _nothing_. People didn't bleed like that over _nothing_. He had a helmet, a cloak and padded protective gear around his neck. If he was bleeding, this wasn't a minor safety incident. You pulled out the medkit, staggering to his chair, a little shaken up by the whole incident. This...wasn't your forte. You could deal with getting injured, but other people getting injured? You were incredibly useless at knowing what to do in that scenario.

"Take off your cloak and your helmet" you instructed, trying to sound authoritative. It came out...less so.

"I told you: I'm fine".

"If you die out here, I'll get fired. I am NOT getting fired today. Take off your cloak".

He hesitated, but removed the fastening around his neck. You grabbed the cloak, pulling it off roughly. You were instantly hit by the metallic smell; and you felt a little more than woozy. He was downplaying this; this was a pretty big problem. You could see where the metal had gone through his padded shirt, cutting through the sturdy lining and into his skin. The cut was right at the base of his neck, where his helmet met the cloth.

You didn't know a whole lot about medicine, but this...this was a bad place to get cut.

"I can't bandage this with your helmet on. The cut's too deep."

"No."

"Oh for...I don't have to look at your face, if that's what you're worried about. I just need to bandage your neck".

He swayed slightly, and you started to feel concern. His hands seemed unsteady as he fumbled at the edges of his helmet, looking for some sort of catch. He pushed at the buttons on either side, and it released, making a _hiss_ as it did so. He lifted it up over his head, letting it drop to the floor.

 _Oh_.

You could only see the back of his head, but you had to blink a few times in momentary distraction. He had so much hair; thick, dark hair. Falling in waves, dusting at his ears. It was insanity. You'd never seen hair like it. You felt yourself having to forcibly refocus, lifting the waves of hair and pulling down his armour.  He made a noise; and you imagined it must be because this was singularly painful. Shit, that was a lot of blood. You cursed, grabbing bacta wipes and holding them over the wound like an idiot. He made a sound at the sting of it; breathing in air sharply through his teeth. 

"You don't know first aid, do you?" he stated, matter-of-factly.

And his voice. You'd assumed the modulator was making it unnecessarily deep, but that just seemed to be the way he was. It was such a strange voice, a strange accent. Devoid of colour.

"Look, I'm doing the best I can in a _shit_ situation, alright?"

You held the wound in one hand while shuffling through the medkit with another, trying to find something to flush the wound. You knew that was the second step, anyway. Get cut, stop bleeding, clean wound, bandage. What else was there to know? You found the bottle of sterile fluid and poured a little over the wound, soaking your hand and a layer of his hair in the process.

" _Shit_ " he gasped, and you heard his leather gloves tightening on the chair. 

After what felt like a small eternity, the bleeding slowed enough for you to stick a bacta bandage on the wound. It covered nicely, and seemed to be doing the trick. You had no clue how he was feeling, because he'd gone reasonably quiet. Would you get demoted if he had passed out? You hoped not.

You looked anywhere that wasn't at him as you packed up the medkit and slid it under your chair. Anywhere. The hangar door, your seat, the comms panel. 

"Are you okay?" you asked tentatively, sliding into your chair. Your eyes locked onto your orange, staring at it as though it held answers.

"No."

He definitely sounded like himself. It was hard to tell what he actually sounded like, but you weren't sure what to expect.

"What was he right about?" Kylo Ren asked, low and quiet.

You swallowed. "What was who right about?"

"Adam".

You rolled your eyes, slight smile on your lips. " _Adrian_ ".

He said nothing, and you looked up at the ceiling. Huh. Nice paneling.

"He thought you weren't much older than I am. We are".

You felt his eyes on your face; scanning you. You still hadn't turned to look at him; you weren't really sure why.

"What did you think?" he asked. He sounded genuinely inquisitive.

"That you-" you started, swinging to face him instinctively.

Oh, Force Above. You were not even remotely prepared for this situation. Your brain became garbled mush; and you knew you were gawking but you just _couldn't stop. I_ t was like you were enraptured.

He was _beautiful_.

Properly, properly beautiful. For some reason, it was the word your brain had instinctively reached for; before 'handsome' or any other word. Those dark waves were now complemented by pale skin, incredibly pale. Starkly contrasted, day and night. Full lips, brown eyes flecked with gold. Smattered with freckles that gave a dynamic edge. Shadows lingered around his eyes; purple, pale. Gaunt, but haunting. Beautifully haunting. Like a sad song, played across a gilded hall. He was something from a book, and nothing you had expected.

He looked down, eyes dropping. What was that look in his eye? He chewed the inside of his cheek; the ghost of some anxiety flitting across his face. Was he anxious, coming under scrutinous gaze?

"I'll...we'll head back, then" you added, flicking the switches to start up the engines. You heard them kick to life, as though nothing had changed.

But everything had changed.

Out of the corner of your eye, you swear you saw Kylo Ren's full lips twitch, hinting at the ghost of a smile. And as you put your foot down on the pedal, you swore you heard a voice. Your voice; a tangled string of garbled mush, with one word repeated over and over like a song:

_"Beautiful"._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go fam. We're going to fluff town.  
> WE HAVE TO GO DEEPER.
> 
> Glossary:
> 
> Chandrila: A core world, birthplace of Kylo Ren and Mon Mothma. It's a small and beautiful planet.
> 
> Gatalenta: The home planet of Vice Admiral Holdo! A Republic world, known for fine arts and nice teas. Leia's favourite tea is from Gatalenta.
> 
> Kath Hound: like a doggo, but less soft. You can feed them alcohol in Kotor II. WHY?!


	5. Strength

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You need a teacher! I can show you the ways of swordfighting really well."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sexual tension? We're kicking it up a gear.

_"Point and shoot" Nehan gestured over your shoulder, gloved hand leading your eyes toward a discarded barrel at the back of the cantina. The blaster was fairly light; the trigger just millimeters from your finger. An E-11, or so Nehan had claimed. Standard Imperial issue, back in the day._

_"If it was as easy as point an-"_

_The bolt went off, red igniting the barrel and causing it to compact in on itself. The noise was shocking; you're mouth had flapped open, aghast._

_Nehan's eyes were wide, golden hair disheveled from shock._

_"Yeah..." he started, scratching his hair "I'm...I'm gonna take that off of you now. If that's alright"._

You didn't  _enjoy_  shooting anything. It wasn't an activity that you had any real interest in; which was why you hated that it was mandatory to uphold a First Order weapon's license. Once a week every week; two hours of firearm training, one hour of martial. All logged. All intensely boring. It was all paid, so you supposed that was a lot easier than firing your blaster for free. Adrian had tagged along, having missed his time slot earlier in the week; he brought along Lopi and Yehn, two other Bridge officers.

Lopi was pretty much silent; her red hair curling at the base of her neck. She was pretty serious; but you could tell she appreciated the company. Yehn more than made up for it; his chattering absolutely insatiable, going into all of the weapons calibrations and modifications he'd seen working in manufacturing on Coruscant.

"That's the thing about plating mods; they're overused. Absolutely sturdy, but who needs one on a WESTAR anyway? The things are the tank-weapon of blaster pistols."

The room was pretty small, built into the upper decks of the ship. A glass viewing window on one wall, but the other three were typical First Order bare. The room was well lit, with the far-end wall holding targets; both physical and program-based holograms.

You gave the signal to clear, and then gave three shots from your blaster. They were crummy shots: really, really crummy. One clipped the metal target, but the other two zoomed straight into the wall. You wanted to be good at this, but you just...weren't.

Yehn gave you a singular pat on the shoulder.

"You'll get there. I used to be absolutely terrible. You know, this one time..."

You tried to listen, but your mind was wandering a lot of late. Kathar had been incredibly busy on Bridge business; the specifics of which you weren't able to dig out from her. Something about the whole thing made you uneasy, but everything around here was making you uneasy. Hux had laid off a great deal, his focus on something just beyond the horizon. As for Kylo Ren...well, you hadn't really seen him. You had turned up to co-pilot a few days ago to find he was otherwise engaged; the shuttle empty. You'd passed him in the hallway, and he'd barely shown any acknowledgement of your existence. Which was pretty weird, all things considered. So you'd gone back to doing whatever it was you did when you weren't co-piloting; namely running around doing odd jobs and trying to look busy.

To be honest, you didn't mind not seeing him. You still weren't sure how to process...him. The day you'd seen his face; you'd been thrown off kilter. Everything you understood about him had suddenly gone haywire: your heart rising in your throat when you thought of those honey eyes.

_There you went again._

Adrian loosed some shots: all three clipping the target. This earned a cheer from Yehn, and Adrian shot you a polite smile.

"Look, I'm gonna call it. Log my hours".

Yehn looked deflated.

"But you've only done an hour and a half!" he exclaimed, clearly not understanding your lack of excitement.

"An hour and a half, two hours...I'll make it up in martial. You guys keep it up".

You gave an unenthusiastic wave to Lopi and grabbed your pack, heading through the sliding door. The corridor was barren; it was heading into the evening, and people were likely heading to the cantine. You just wanted to get all of this over with before dinner, so you marched several doors down, pushing into the martial room.

Same story, different area. There were no physical targets here; just a range of vibroblades and polearms, and a console to log hours and run simulations. A big, one-way glass window on one end.

You awkwardly shuffled out of your padded coat, shaking it off to reveal the robes underneath. There was no mandatory armor for martial; and no requirement to wear uniform. Wearing robes helped you feel a little more at home, and you left your hair unpinned, allowing you to move freely. Kicking your coat to the side, you examined yourself in the one-way window. With the grey robes and loose hair, you looked much more like the person you used to know. A little less sterile; and perhaps a little more pretty. You tipped your head to the side, wiping at a smudge on your cheek.

You skipped over to the vibroblades, plucking one out of the rack. Unsheathed, it was an elegant weapon; as long as your arm, but as thin as a finger. You shuffled your grip, leaving the electrical pulse off.  _No point if you weren't going to attack anything._

Standing straight, you gave it a practice swing. It sliced through the air,  _swooshing_. A dangerous weapon, but a dignified one. You gave a more confident slash, and before long you were twisting it in your grip, dancing with the blade as though it were your own. You checked your footwork; a little sloppy, but good. This was much more your speed: a delicate grace to it, something a little more authentic.

But just as you began to feel comfortable, something felt... _strange_. Hard to place. Something familiar and unfamiliar, all at once. As though an energy cracked through the air, unseen. As though a storm was rolling in, far off in the horizon. You held your vibroblade steady in your palm, taking several steps toward the glass of the window. All you could see was your own reflection; but the cracking got louder. A definite hum of energy, pulling you beyond the sheet of glass.

You placed your free palm out to the cool glass; condensation forming around the print of your hand. You could physically  _feel_ the current; reverberating in you bloodstream, igniting your pulse.

"I know you're there, you know" you called; wondering if your voice would carry. You knew someone was there. Somehow. 

The sound of boots at the doorway confirmed your suspicions, and as you raised a brow: Kylo Ren entered the room.

And of course, your stupid heart skipped about five stupid beats just at the stupid sight of him.

Dark hair framing his face, all contrast and angles as he lingered in the doorway. His mask was tucked under his arm; gloved hand resting on the visor. His brown eyes regarded you with an unreadable expression: his lips parting slightly as he chewed at the inside of his cheek. You felt your blood running hot, pooling at your cheeks as you shuffled the vibroblade in your hand, the other dropped to your side.

"Your footwork is unbalanced".

 _That was one way to make an entrance._ You swallow, rising feelings of annoyance in your chest. And something else, too.

"We don't all have the privilege of being trained by Jedi, _Commander_."

You emphasized Commander deprecatingly, your tone slick with mockery and jest. He dropped his gaze, lip twitching as he moved across the room. Even in his walk, there was some sort of elegant grace; some sort of presence that captivated your attention. He moved with purpose, always. Controlled steps, military attitude. It was enchanting to watch.

You flinched as he dropped his mask to the floor; it _thunked_ as though it were a solid boulder. He regarded the rack of weapons, grabbing at a particularly long vibrosword. It fit into his gloved hand with ease; and as if to hammer home that fact, he twirled it in his right hand effortlessly, spinning it as though it were nothing more than a flashy stick.

His eyes traveled to yours, and he adjusted his grip on the blade.

Your eyes widened.

"You're _serious_?"

"Deadly".

Deadly being the object word in this scenario. You'd never seen Kylo Ren fight off anything that wasn't General Hux; but you knew from his reputation that he might as well be the best swordsman in the galaxy right now. He was aggressive, controlled, and probably going to kill you with little to no effort. He was regarding you with the sort of look one might give prey. But somehow, you didn't mind at all.

Your heart was pounding, the grip of your blade suddenly cold against your sweating palm.

"Go easy on me" you breathed, taking several steps toward him. His feet stayed firmly in position, watching you as you moved closer.

You lunged, gritting your teeth as you swung the blade at him. His response was immediate; the metal clanging as he parried, not a bead of sweat on his brow.

"Your eyes are giving you away".

You stepped back, letting him push you back as you disengaged. Cloaked with his belt fastened around his waist; every swing he made seemed to make him flow. And in the same way you'd felt as you pressed your hand to the window; you could feel the tide of the Force pulling at your movements. Feel the way it radiated from him, sparking off of him like a live wire. You panted, straightening your shoulders. He threw his blade, re-positioning it with a swallow.

It continued for some time; that dance. Swords clashing; him criticizing your technique. It was incredible to watch him move, to see his training come to life. He was deadly; a knife in the dark, struggling to keep himself controlled. He was always on the defensive, while you tried your best to throw him off guard.

This time, you angled yourself. Bringing down the blade, you attempted to be less predictable. This caught him, a little; you saw it in his eyes. His blade met yours, and as he blocked, he threw a swing at you. Leaning backward, the blade cleaved at the air above your head; you could hear it as it cut through the space, singing with the power of his swing. He grunted, bringing the blade back toward you. You shrieked, pure adrenaline radiating outward as you brought your sword up to meet his, rocking on your heel as he towered over you.

"Flustered?" you pant, a slight grin forming on your features.

His facial expression was intoxicating. Terrifying. You could tell he'd expected to disarm you; but you were holding against his onslaught. The aggression was plain on his face; eyes filled with determination, channeling his anger like a conduit. His full lips were practically shaking, nostrils flared as he brought his sword down to yours.

 _Oh_. Your heart was fluttering, veins aching as the scene changed; him throwing his sword into yours with enough force that your body burned with the effort of deflecting him. You stepped backward, again and again, pushed across the room by swing after swing. His face was striking; his lips pulling over his teeth as you felt the heel of your boot collide with the wall. You looked back to check, and yep - you were up against the metal hull with nowhere to turn. He stepped toward you, bringing the sword down for a final swing; you haphazardly blocked it, holding as you felt your teeth grinding. _Shit_. You lose.

Your blade was almost pinned to your chest; his eyes boring into yours. He was close enough that you could feel his breath on your cheek; that you could feel the Force coursing through him as though it were drawing you in.

"Know your surroundings".

You licked your lip, sighing. Force, what was happening to you? A fortnight ago you'd hated him more than life itself. And now? 

Now, you were lost at sea.

"Is this where I yield?" you ask, your voice a little too high and a little too quiet.

He leaned back, disengaging his vibrosword. He threw it across the room; it clattered to the ground, sparking slightly against the metal. You released a breath you didn't know you had been holding; swallowing hard as you relaxed.

"I'm leaving tomorrow".

_What?_

"What?"

You blurted without even thinking, making you want to shrink back into the wall. Ugh. He seemed to scan the room, looking everywhere, _anywhere_  that wasn't your face.

"I'm needed on the flagship. A week, maybe more".

Oh. That was fine. You'd only known the man a week; so you wouldn't be sorry to see him go. That'd be crazy. Right? That'd be too much, too soon.  
But if that were true; why did you feel such a sting of disappointment? You hoped to Force it wasn't showing on your face.

"That's fine. That's...I mean, it is what it is. You're the Commander. You're important".

Shit. Your mouth was running away from you. Empty words.

Kylo caught your gaze, then. Honey eyes affixed on yours. You felt your heart jump in your throat; blood coursing too fast.

"You feel it, too".

The sentence was lost on you; no context for the words that escaped his lips as a low murmur. It wasn't a question, but it wasn't quite a statement: it was somewhere at the midpoint. Somewhere that you had seldom tread, but wished to follow him through. You felt the flow of energy from him change; settling, moving with renewed purpose. He took a step closer to you; his shoulders back, intensity in his eyes. The current grew stronger; so strong now that you felt a vibration in your bones.

"A current".

He nodded, almost imperceptibly. His gaze shifted to your lips momentarily; you watched his part slightly, before his eyes turned back to yours.

"Is it..." you gulped, trying to choke down the lump in your throat "...is it normal, in Force Sensitive people? To feel energy flow between them in this way?"

"To an extent".

He was almost...was he shaking? Were you imagining it? It seemed as though he were shivering, very slightly. As though he were waging an internal battle, deep in his mind.

"To this extent?"

He chewed his lip.

"Not in my experience."

Your mind was racing almost as fast as your heart; you swore if he so much as touched you in that moment, you might just catch fire. Burn up, until nothing but ashes remained. He was a singular presence, and you wondered if he was feeling that, too. That singularity. Like binary stars; gravity moving between you, pulling you closer.

Somewhere, you heard a small beep; the pad on the wall lighting up. Your session was over, and the silent spell seemed to break. Kylo blinked, a frustrated look crossing his narrow features. He waved a hand, and the pad stopped blinking, the beeping silenced. He then broke away, moving to pick up his helmet and the discarded vibrosword.

Free from his gaze, you thought you might melt. You blinked, trying to figure out whether that whole interaction had actually happened.

"Eat something. Rest. Be at the Bridge tomorrow morning. I have orders to give before I leave."

You nod, watching him turn on heel and stride toward the door. As he pushed the door release, you swore you saw him hesitate. His black mane of hair eclipsing his face from view. And as he slid on his helmet, pulling his cloak over his head, you could have sworn you felt his presence, his mind. So quiet in your own that it might have been a feverish hope, a daydream that stole the air from your lungs.

An ache to turn around, to just spend another moment in your gaze.

But then he was gone; and you were left with more questions than answers.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Point to where the fic hurt you  
> [points to heart]
> 
> This one took slightly longer because I've been busy with meetings and parties. C'est la vie!
> 
> My descriptions regarding swordfighting come from my own minimal experience doing fencing / reenactments, and also google. Woot for google.
> 
> Glossary:
> 
> E-11 Blaster Rifle: Standard issue blaster rifle. It was widely used by Imperial forces, but was essentially a very commonly used model regardless of who you were.
> 
> Vibroblade: A very deadly weapon. Like a sword, but electrified via a switch. Even without the electricity, they can cleave someone in half. Used by pretty much anyone who uses melee.
> 
> Vibrosword: A vibroblade, except longer. Closer to a lightsaber in size.
> 
> WESTAR: Bounty hunter blaster. Sometimes they'd come with alloy-plating modifications, which always seemed like massive overkill to me.


	6. The Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's it like in Kylo Ren's head? Turns out: about as pleasant as you'd expect.

Hot water ran through your hair; dripping across your eyelids and embracing your skin. Showers on The Finalizer were, in no uncertain terms, as bad as the food. You'd often find after about two minutes it'd conk out; sputtering only a meager trickle of lukewarm water to wash off your shampoo. This morning seemed a little better; you'd even managed to swindle some trilium soap from the storeroom, which was a rare prize in any event.

Cranking the handle, you haphazardly stepped into your uniform. You were on schedule to be damned early to the Bridge, and that was helping the ache in your lungs. Last night's sleep had been...broken, to say the least.

_"To this extent?"_

_Kylo Ren chewed his lip._

_"Not in my experience."_

Shit. There you went again. Hot under the collar, all dizzied and swooning and aching. How did he manage to do it? You were starting to regret saving his life, what with all the time he was spending crossing your mind. It couldn't be healthy.

Your bathroom was tiny, to say the least. One little shower, one toilet, and a tiny mirror with a plasteel basin. It was barely fit to be a closet; let alone an officer's bathroom. But, whatever; you weren't going to complain. You'd lived a good proportion of your life without access to such basic amenities; and you'd heard troopers had communal showers. Force, that'd positively kill you.

Fuzzing your hair with a towel, you pushed open the door to your quarters. Modest, but reasonable: a single bed, a dresser, a bedside table,  a locker. Not winning any awards for style, but you weren't nominating it for any. Plonking down onto the bed, you sipped at the glass of water you had perched next to you, trying to bolster yourself to face the day ahead. The schedule looked fine: go to Bridge, fix a the comms panel on deck three, lunch, back to the Bridge, reconfigure some of the TIE-fighters, dinner, rec time, bed. Easy.

Your comms pad gave a beep, and you sighed. Messages, commands; there was always something.

Three messages popped up, your eyes scanning the white text as it scrolled by.

_"Meet 4 lunch? Gt free at 1. Big nws! Meet @ dck 1 rec rom?"_

You were going to have to have a word with Kathar about her terrible abbreviations. Honestly; it was getting out of hand. How hard was it to spell 'room?'.   
Force; you were starting to sound like Tarna-Sul with that sort of attitude.

The second message seemed to be ship-wide, sent through the official channel.

_"Brace for minor asteroid impacts today, into late evening. Dinner is berbersian crab salad. Intake shuttles from Outer Rim."_

Berbersian crab salad. You had a feeling they could even make that taste bland and offensive.

The third message...the third message made your heart literally jump in your chest. No logged ID; which meant two things: either it was a new recruit who was sloppy about using guest sign ins, or the message was intentionally off-record.

_"Be ready at 7am. Bridge meeting is no longer possible. I'll come to your quarters"._

 

_What._

_The._

_Fuck._

_Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck?_

Your brain was not processing this information well. At all. It was obvious who had sent that communication; but that raised a hell of a lot more questions than it did answers. You tapped the screen, checking the clock, and well: it was official. You were going to slip into panic. Because it was 7:01, and you just wanted to melt into the furniture.

Your hair was wet, you had no idea where your pins were, you had zero makeup on, you had cleaned up zero of the books haphazardly stacked on your dresser.  
This was _not_ the way you wanted Kylo Ren to visualize you; a woman trying to convince him you had it all together.

But that fear was short lived; because your door slid open, and there he was.

Mask on, cowl draped across his collarbone. Built like a starship. Looking about as terrifying as he always did in that get up of his.

"I..." you started, still leaned back on your palms as you sat on your bed "...my _door_. You Force opened my _door_."

He turned to glance at the door through his visor; and with a slight movement of his gloved hand, it snapped shut, metal clang echoing through the little space.

"Most people comm in, you know. In polite society".

"I did".

That...wasn't what you'd meant. But he knew that. Even through his cold and calculated-sounding modulator, you could just _tell_. Your interactions over the last fortnight had lead you to the conclusion that the man knew exactly how to piss people off. It may as well be his full-time position at this point.

You swallowed, blood rushing to your cheeks as you sat up straight, folding your palms together in your lap.

"Your hair is wet".

What? Okay, that was _weird_. Why was he being weird?

"...Yes. That tends to happen. When one showers. Anticipating a Bridge meeting. And then gets a message while in the shower. And then has the Commander use the Force to open her door".

He said nothing, but he reached up and pushed at the clasps on the side of his helmet. The mouthpiece folded upward, and he lifted it off of his head.  
Whoops. There went your heart again as those soft black waves tumbled out. He looked even paler than usual; even more gaunt. Even since yesterday; he looked as though he'd withered some. Like he was dreading an unspoken thing, and had spent the night tossing over it. Yes; that was it. The purple bruises under his eyes were unmissable. You had to wonder what was scary enough to keep Kylo Ren, Commander of the First Order, up at night. What monsters lurked under his bed, in the dark corners they found there.

And that familiar _hum_. You had noticed it when he entered, but it was almost as though his helmet tended to close it off from you, somehow. As though that added layer sought to contain it. He pushed the helmet up onto your dresser; momentarily scanning his eyes across the books that perched atop it.

"You read".

His silky voice always caught you off guard when you least expected. Ugh.

"Doesn't everyone?"

"Books. Leather books".

Oh.

"Do you?" you asked, unsteadily getting to your feet. Your towel slid off of your shoulders, exposing your dripping hair to the dry air of your room. You took several steps to the dresser, plucking up one of your favourites. A chronicle of historical texts on the Mandalorian Wars; the story of a young Zabrak named Bao-Dur, who worked to restore the Jedi Order and defeat the Sith Triumvirate. You didn't know if you believed it; but it always made your heart race. The Old Republic seemed so...exciting. So vivid. Jedi fighting Sith, the great battles, the mystery, the romance. Legends of another time, when Light and Dark were less blurred.

Kylo Ren's brown eyes drifted to the book in your hands, his long lashes framing the movement. He seemed to move his lips slightly, swallowing.

"Not as often as I'd like".

You nodded, twisting the copy in your hands. Was everything easier with a book in your hands? Sometimes, that was how it felt. You could feel the distinctive buzz of the Force, even now; even standing back from him as you were. So strange, so distinct. So raw; like a second pulse, a second heartbeat.

"Did you..." you swallowed, nipping at your lip slightly as you set the book back down "...need to give me instruction? You're leaving".

He looked down, chewing the inside of his cheek.

"Do only what you need to. Hux is preoccupied, but should he pose any concern to you; you need only let me know on my return. It will - with any luck - be sooner, rather than later."

It must have been the longest sentence you'd ever heard him say; and one of the more boggling ones, too. Was he trying to protect you? It definitely seemed like it.

You nodded, avoiding looking him dead in the eyes. Every time you did, you swore; that current felt as though it might drag you under the waves. Something in his honey gaze made that electricity shoot through you, your heart crashing wildly in your chest.

"I..." you started, but you lost track of your thoughts. Your mind was mush; it was utterly eclipsed by the Force, and something else, too.

Kylo Ren took a slight step toward you; his cowl flowing behind him. And _Force_ ; you thought your veins might explode. What was this? Could he feel this, too?

He breathed, and you could hear it in his chest. It was ragged, it was hitched. Never had you felt this sensation of feeling another being's energy with such utter totality. You'd read about it, sure. When Jedi were exposed to one another for long enough, they'd develop strong enough bonds that they could telepathically connect across the galaxy. But to feel it was different entirely. 

"I want to..." he breathed, and it was the first time you'd heard his voice come out as almost a whisper "...to try something".

You had no idea what _something_ was; but you nodded. There was all of this...emotion, all stuck in your throat. A big ball of some alien feeling, flooding your cheeks with such warmth you imagined they must be burning. Your mind pinched for a moment in slight fear; remembering that this man had, not two weeks ago, invaded your mind against your will. But circumstances had changed. Drastically. Infinitely. 

He took another step, and _fuck_. You actually had to stifle a gasp. He was shaking; genuinely. He was close enough now that you could have reached up to his face with no effort; the tips of your toes pulling you in. But instead, he carefully slipped off his gloves, his honey eyes locked on yours. He placed them on the dresser; studying your face intently.

"Trust me" he sighed, bringing his hands, ever so gently, to your cheeks.

_He gasped, and the world splintered. Everything was and wasn't; could and couldn't be, all at the same time. Reality distorted; and you were not just you, or not wholly._

_You looked around, but you weren't sure where you were. You could see him, still; see his honey eyes, pupils dilated as he watched your face. But you could also see yourself, you from his eyes. You, with wet hair and burning cheeks and eyes that sparked with colour and life. You could remember things that confused you; memories that spun like air upon the breeze. Voices, from your past. From his past. Your voice, his voice._

_"Not as often as I'd like"._

_"Why are you crying, Little Moon?"  
_

_"I’m here to fix the Communications System. General Hux-"_

_"Your father is a better man than you might think..."_

_"You think this makes it right? It wasn't what they died for"._

_"It's okay to be afraid. I was, once"._

_It span and span, endless voices. What semblance of control you had; you tried to direct. This was beautiful, and incredible, and terrifying. And that was what you focused on; emotion. Your emotions were strong, but subtle. You didn't know if he could feel them, but you reached out; you wanted to know him. Know his mind. Know his world._

_It was strange, and you weren't sure what you were doing - or if you were doing anything, really. But you suddenly felt a threshold; a doorway in your mind's eye. You crossed it, and that was when it all came tumbling through._

_If your emotions were a strong wind; his were a hurricane. It was disorienting; his mind was strange, paralyzing. So drenched in fear; numbed by the images of faces you didn't recognise. But you felt things you recognised better; survival instinct. Longing for safety. Anger. Bitterness. Discomfort. Curiosity. Strength. Regret. And as you started to gain control, so did he. But he was less curious, now. More terrified; terrified you'd seen too much. He hadn't anticipated you'd be strong enough to keep up with him. He had never thought this bond could work this way._

_And as he pushed you out; it all came at once. A stream of consciousness. The place between subconscious thought and conscious willpower, all merging into one chain:_

_StopitstopitstopitpleasestopdontseemelikethisstopitstopitletmegopleaseineedyouandicantloseyouthewayilostthemstopitstopityoudontknowwhathecandopleaseletmegostopitstopiticantloseyouitllbreakmestopitstopitpleasejuststopiveneverfeltthiswayaboutanyonebuticanticanticantstopitstopitstopitstopitSTOPITSTOPIT_

"STOP IT!".

Reality formed together with an almighty crash; your mind forced back into your own body with such force and effort that it ached. Everything was spinning; and you were dreadfully confused. You staggered backward, catching yourself against the bedside table. The world shifted into focus; and you started to gain control of your faculties.

Kylo Ren was against the far wall; his eyes glassy, unfocused. His chest was rising and falling so fast that you swore he was going to pass out; he looked absolutely petrified.

"Kylo..." you swallowed, but hearing your own voice was so bizarre. Everything felt wrong.

He staggered to his feet, grabbing his helmet and gloves in one swift movement; never once taking his terrified eyes off of you. He slammed his hand down on the button to the door release, practically falling through it as he exited.

"I'm...s-"

But as you lurched forward, you felt the room spin. You tripped, falling against the bed and bashing your shin against the metal post. It should've hurt; but nothing felt right.

And before you could look up; he was gone.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing this chapter. Like, a lot. Because I feel it's getting juicy now, and also because this was the first idea I came up with regarding this fic; so this was my ground zero.  
> Oh and also: I BET YOU THOUGHT THERE WOULD BE KISSING IN THIS CHAPTER, HA HA GOT YOU  
> Thank you for all the support! I love you people :3
> 
> Glossary:
> 
> Bao-Dur: I love him, he's my Zabrak buddy. He was featured in KOTOR II as a companion; he was a pretty chill guy. The sort of guy you imagine writing a memoir that is super detailed and cool.
> 
> Berbesian Crab Salad: Apparently it's a Naboo delicacy. Star Wars has canon salad. It's a crazy world.
> 
> Telepathy: Is mentioned here, so I wanted to just go into it a little. It's much less invasive than Mind Probe, and I've tried to be as honest about what I feel it looks like when two Force Sensitives openly engage with it. It was usually used to get across basic messages, but there is canon precedent for it being used to literally feel the flow of the Force and see thoughts, emotions, etc, as that person would. It's very neat. The Clone Wars goes into this somewhat I feel.
> 
> The Sith Triumvirate: The terrible threesome of Darth Sion, Darth Traya and Darth Nihilus. They tried to rule the galaxy but ended up getting beaten by my bois Meetra Surik and Atton Rand. Darth Traya foreshadowed the events of the Sith returning to the galaxy, yada yada etc. Go play KOTOR II, it's sick. 
> 
> Trilium Soap: Wookies use it to keep their fur lovely! And it's nice for humans, too.


	7. The Hermit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dream sparks memories of the past. But when Kylo Ren returns; you decide you need answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are literally not prepared. Grab your popcorn, we're going on a feel trip.

_Where were you?_

_You blinked, bright light obscuring your vision; the world a haze of sunlight and warmth. This must be a dream, surely; you had no memory of this place, no reason to be here. A lake, glassy and clear, formed in your view; and below your feet, a wooden dock. The sky was an incredible shade of blue, and two moons were visible from the platform. Far off, hills rolled, flowers blooming and bringing with them exotic scents._

_"A dream" you told yourself. Your voice echoed around you; as though it were coming from somewhere else. But it was clear as a bell. As you looked down at the water, you saw yourself. Or, a version of yourself. Your hair was braided, flowing to your shoulders. A beautiful dress, sewn with flowers, adorned your features._

_My. You looked incredible._

_"A dream"._

_The voice behind you confirmed; a familiar voice, but foreign, all at once. You turned, and Kylo Ren was leaning against a stone wall; smile pushing at his dimpled cheeks. He was Kylo Ren, but he also...wasn't. His hair was shorter; tan robes giving him the illusion of being less formidable. The circles under his eyes were gone, and he looked healthy. Radiant, even._

_And his expression. My goodness, you had never seen such an expression on the man. This dream Kylo Ren was so expressive; everything from his lean to the smile on his features that reached up, crinkling his eyes. His whole being seemed to reverberate life, and happiness, and being a whole._

_"You're here". You smiled, and he laughed; the sound was musical._

_"Not quite; but in part"._

_You gestured for him to join you, and he pushed off the wall. His movements had a little bounce to them; almost close to a skip. When he reached you, you looked away; out to the passing current. He smelled wonderful, and you felt comforted as his arms looped around your waist from behind, pulling you to him with some force. It felt so safe; so right. Something in your mind knew that this was an impossible thing, but you savoured it. His dark waves brushed against your cheek as he nuzzled into the crease of your neck; breathing in the scent of your skin._

_"This might be the most beautiful place I've ever seen, you know. I don't think I've ever seen somewhere so peaceful, not in all my life"._

_He chuckled, and you felt his cool breath at your collarbone._

_"I used to play on this dock when I was little. I'd throw stones into the water, trying to get them to skip across the surface"._

_You smiled at the thought; lifting a hand back to tangle into his hair. He let out a muffled sound of approval, peppering kisses at the side of your neck._

_"Little Kylo Ren. I'd like to see that"._

_He hummed, drawing you in closer. He was shaking, now; holding you tight enough that you could feel his fingers at your ribs, feel the way he seemed to shiver with the urgency of the action._

_"I have to go", he groaned. You bit back disappointment._

_"Don't. Stay here with me."_

_Kylo Ren made a noise, running his face against your cheek._

_"I want to," he swallowed, his voice barely a whisper "more than anything. More than life itself"._

_You nodded, your lashes fluttering. You wanted to savor this; hold it for as long as you could. But right as you turned to tell him; the world fell away._

 

"Are you alright?"

Force! You jumped out of your skin at the sudden introduction of a voice your brain wasn't anticipating. You had been locked in the memory of a dream you'd had several days ago; now coming back to grab a hold on you. Your screen bleeped, letting you know it had finished running checks. As you turned, you saw Lopi: her red hair pinned back, surveying you with cautious eyes. Her workstation was nearby, and it was almost time to clock off.

"Sorry, Lopi. I guess I haven't been sleeping too well recently".

She nodded, her lips creasing into a thin line. Always so serious: so cautious.

"You have to be careful."

Careful? Of what? Of drifting off? It wasn't like Hux was keeping a tight ship of late. He seemed positively ecstatic about something happening down at the Base; and spent almost all of his time on the Bridge meeting with Senior Officers and generally posturing. As it were; nobody on this Bridge was in danger of working too hard. You'd learned that very quickly over the last few weeks; the higher up you got in the First Order, the more likely you were to be doing very little.

"What is it?" you asked, your brows knitting together.

"Hux knows. He knows something's going on. With you and the Commander".

Well, you'd love to have General Hux's optimism, then. Because it seemed what was going on with you and the Commander was sweet fuck all, much to your chagrin. He'd been gone for over two weeks, with no word to you or anyone. The last time you'd seen him, he'd looked at you like you'd just revealed you were a Rancor in a human suit. So if General Hux knew something you didn't know, he should probably front up.

You swallowed, and even to you: you sounded unconvincing.

"I have no idea what you're talking about".

Lopi sniffed, looking put out. 

"Just think about it. And look after yourself. I don't want you to get hurt."

You genuinely felt a degree of warmth, then. It was a rare thing to have someone candidly open up about caring for your welfare; so you felt a little glow. Maybe Lopi wasn't so bad, after all.

"Thanks, Lopi. I do appreciate it".

She gave a very slight smile, turning back to her desk as though the interaction had never occurred.

A little bleep from your comms pad signaled the end of your shift; and you scrolled through the interaction updates for the day. If it'd been a particularly quiet shift; you'd usually download a manual run through of communications modules used on the ship. It wasn't always standard procedure, but it helped you to identify where there were modules getting use, so that you could assign shifts to officers for the rest of the week.

Blah, blah. The information was about as expected. A few faulty results coming back on decks four and seven, but that was to be anticipated. General Hux had been logging a lot of hours, which was also to be expected. 

But you paused.

Kylo Ren had logged consistent hours for three days, from a room on this deck. You recognised it as being a command room; used for tactical planning and simulation.

But...what? He was off ship, right?

You felt anxiety rising in your chest.

"Did...did Kylo Ren log hours for today in command? Am I getting a dud report?"

You could see Lopi restraining herself, her eyes almost rolling back into her own skull. It irritated and embarrassed you, but whatever. It had been a long day, and you weren't about to get duped by Kylo Ren on top of that. It wasn't happening.

"His ship clocked in four days ago. I thought you would have known".

_What?_

_What kind of galactic bullshit was this?_

You felt all the colour rush from your cheeks as you logged out, grabbing your comms pad and setting down your equipment for the next shift officer. Everything seemed to be moving at a strange speed; your mind resting somewhere between disbelief and rising anger.

_"You told me you were coming back!"_

_Nehan stood in the doorway; blonde hair now cropped short. Eyes glassy; distant. Not quite here. His bag was slung over his shoulder; still filled with weapons, clothes, credits. Everything he had in the world._

_"I did. I came back"._

_You sputtered, anger punching through your gut like a blaster wound._

_"You were missing for two years. Two years! Do you have any idea what that was like? We thought you were dead! I filed a report!"_

_He didn't even look phased. It was as though you weren't even real; you were some ethereal being, passing through his vision like a ghost._

_"I have a son. A little boy."_

_You blinked._

_"What?"_

_"On Coruscant. He's only one, but you should see him. He's wonderful. He's the best thing that ever happened to me."_

You stormed down the corridor, anger only growing as you gritted your teeth. There was no way, no fucking way. Because Kylo Ren, Commander of the First Order? He owed you. You deserved some answers for this whole...thing! All of it! Isn't that the least he could do, all things considered? You were sick of being left in a transient state between here and there. Your whole life. Your whole, miserable life. 

Waiting for someone to care enough to just...come back.

You gulped back tears, storming through the doorway like an absolute fanatic. You were practically radiating anger; you could feel it deep in your bones, in your blood. It was your turn to be a hurricane now. Your turn to be the coming storm.

Two troopers looked up as you entered; and as expected, in the far off corner, Commander Asshole himself turned to look at you. Mask obscuring his face; cloak pulled up around his head like some childish nightmare.

"Leave", you spat through gritted teeth.

You could tell that Kylo Ren was unnerved by you barking commands at troopers; an action so unlike the you he'd come to know. If it pissed him off, he didn't say anything; the troopers scrambled out with fumbled 'yes ma'am's' and 'sorry ma'am's. And that was how you came to be standing in the doorway of a command room, alone with your masked Commander once more; staring him down like hell had no fury.

"I was wondering wh-"

"-Save it". You cut him off half way through his sentence; knowing how much that would absolutely piss him off. It did; you saw his gloved hands curl into fists, his silence a deafening admission that yes, you had gotten under his skin.

"You've been on this ship for _four days_. In that time, I've been fixing communications panels, when I'm rostered on as _your co-pilot_ ".

His stance changed; shifting in his robes like the fearful boy he was.

"Flustered, Lieutenant?"

Oh, fuck no. He was not going to throw your own words back at you. His modulator did nothing to hide what sounded like bitter contempt; and you were not having a single drop of it.

"What do you want from me?!" you cried out, your shoulders hunched in absolute rage "You want me to say I'm sorry for reading your mind by accident? Right after I met you, you mind probed me! What, you want me to say I'm sorry for bandaging your neck when you were injured? For being shitty with a vibrosword? You want me to apologise for saving your life, is that it? You want me to say I'm sorry for that, too? Because I am. I'm fucking sorry I saved your life. I am SO sick of not knowing where I stand with you. You think you're the only person that's ever been afraid of anything? You're a hypocrite."

And after your tirade, what hit you right in the gut was the silence. The silence was deafening. He didn't even move; didn't even clench his fists. Didn't scream at you, or choke you, or mind probe you. Didn't throw a fit. Didn't even breathe through his modulator in a way that gave you a clue as to his mood.

He just...stood there. Existing. Being.

And somehow? That was infinitely worse.

You stepped toward him, trying to break his silent resolve. That familiar hum returned; less comforting to you now than you'd have wanted it to be.

"You're afraid, okay? I'm afraid. I don't know what's happening. I need your help".

His modulator didn't properly process the noise he made; so all you heard was static. It was a strange thing; watching his shoulders heave in that sort of manner. It made you feel ill.

"You have no idea what he'll do. To you. To me."

You didn't know who _he_ was; but you had a few ideas. The chain of command clearly didn't end at Kylo Ren and Armitage Hux; that much you knew. As your father used to remind you, "there's always a bigger fish". But someone who made Kylo Ren fear for his safety? That was another thing entirely. Something you couldn't properly conceptualize.

"Please; take the mask off, Kylo".

He hesitantly brought his hands up, pushing the clasps. It dropped to the floor with a thunk; and you audibly gasped.

His left eye was bruised purple: shining against his skin. It didn't appear swollen, but it looked incredibly painful. He'd taken a knock to the face, somehow. His lip looked a little puckered on that side, too, and you wondered what sort of force could do that to him. His gaze was set on the floor; you watched as he swallowed, looking completely bare and broken. The hum of the force tugged at your periphery, but it was less violent than you'd seen it before. Sadness and fear surrounded him; an aura strong enough to make your chest ache.

You took several steps toward him; now close enough that you could reach out and skim him with your fingertips. You saw him flinch as you came to a halt, and you had to wonder what sort of incredible fear was making him react to you in such a way. You'd seen his mind: seen that he was terrified, all the time. Of so, so many things. The anger you had felt before was completely dissipated; replaced by pain, longing and _pity_.

His face actively contorted, showing distinctive pain.

"Don't".

It came out as a plea; and he was still looking at the floor. Perhaps the worst thing Kylo Ren could think of was seeing the pity on your face, in the depths of your eyes. Pity was something he feared more than anything; the only thing he had reserved for his own use. 

"Does it hurt?" you asked. You longed to lean in and touch him, to hold him. To take even part of this pain from him.

"Not anymore".

It still looked like it hurt. It was so angry; so dark against the pale of his skin. 

Cautiously, you took another step. This time, he didn't flinch; and his eyes did slowly move to your face; scanning your features before settling at your gaze.

 _Oh._ Force, that wasn't fair. You felt the sudden acceleration of that electricity, drawing you to him. Only this time, you swallowed it back. Even with him looming over you, tall as tall could be; he seemed so fragile. A wounded bird. You didn't want to scare him off.

His eyes lingered at your lips, and he seemed to part his own slightly. The intensity of his stare made your heart thrash in your chest.

You swallowed, taking in the curve of his jawline, the dip at his cheekbone.

"If you need me to leave you alone" you whisper "just say that. I'll go".

He licked at his lip slightly, dark lashes heavy on his eyes.

" _Please_ , don't go".

 _His_ words, so earnest and soft, elicited a slight noise from you. His gloved hand reached out shakily; the Force reverberating from him like music through the air.

" _I...want to..._ "

But you cut him off; your hands winding around to the nape of his neck, your lips pushing against his with a gentle sincerity. For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, so shocked by what you were doing that he had no immediate response. But the moment he could bring himself to move; he crushed his lips against yours. He gasped against your mouth, his gloved hands moving to the small of your back. Everything was a blur of colour; the Force flowing between you, his emotions and yours, but the same emotions all at once. 

His cloak trailed around you both; and the kiss deepened. Your heart ached to be closer, to have more, to keep going. You moved your tongue deeper, exploring the taste of his mouth. One of his hands wandered to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. Force, it was an extraordinary kiss. There were no words for this sort of bliss; this sort of movement.

You reached your hands up, running them through the thick tresses at the back of his neck. He _moaned_ , and the sound sent ripples through your core; a heat between your legs that felt incredible. You smiled, his teeth nipping at your lower lip and eliciting a sigh from the back of your throat. And you could swear as you pushed against him that you could feel _it_ ; painfully hard and dangerously enticing. Somehow, you'd known that would happen; he'd likely been starved for contact under that mask.

You could _feel_ his desire, his longing, his loss of control. Not just physically, but in the Force around him. His mind was a whirl of emotion; no real words properly forming. This was all new to him, a sensation he'd never felt.

After what felt like not nearly enough time, you pulled away. He looked positively irked that you had done so; and you laughed through your breathless panting.

"I'll admit" you swallowed, laughing quietly "now I _am_ a little flustered".

He chuckled, and you realised it was the first time you'd ever heard him laugh. Force, it was a beautiful sound. You could listen to it all day.

"How are you doing this to me?" he sighed, his honey eyes alight with something new. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, leaning in to press another gentle peck to your lips.

"Jedi mind-trick", you jested.

"Ah. Well I must be weak minded, then."

"Or I'm just very good", you laughed. You stroked the back of your hand across his jawline; he closed his eyes against it, a sigh escaping from his chest.

"You are that".

A beep from your comms pad in your pocket alerted you to the fact you ought to have clocked out by now, and you couldn't help but bite back a smile, rolling your eyes. Kylo also seemed to find this rather amusing; his mouth twisting up slightly in the corner.

"I should go and eat, before everyone starts wondering if you've thrown me out of an airlock. But I'll...tomorrow? For co-piloting business?"

You pulled away; but his hand grasped yours. You laughed, forcing him to extend his arm to keep a hold on your hand as you moved toward the door. With a defeated sigh, he released you, and you bit your lip.

"That doesn't seem soon enough".

You couldn't stifle the smile as you heard him remark that under his breath; but with a skip in your step, you rounded the doorway and headed for the cantine. Your heart was fuller than it had been in some time, and that was all you needed to know.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's...no Glossary this time? AH! I'm losing my touch. Nah, just kidding: this just wasn't a very technical chapter. I mean, making out is the same in any galaxy, right?
> 
> As usual, big thanks to everyone who's been slamming those response buttons. I love you guys more than Kylo loves making out.
> 
> Oh, and we get to bump up the rating now. How exciting!
> 
> We'll be exploring more of Kylo Ren's past soon; or, more notably, Ben's past. Also sex. Also more angst. Oh, and there'll hopefully be some plot involved. I have a distinctive plan for where I want this to go, so I'm hoping you'll stick along for the ride.


	8. The Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After all the hardship and tragedy: you feel you've finally earned respite. But said respite brings up memories for both you and Kylo; and your past is hard to run from.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Death, PTSD. Not in any particular detail, but I feel I should add the warning just in case.

Sliding further down your chair in the rec room, you flipped the pages of your worn novel. Sticky leather didn't make for much comfort, but it was better than being stuck in the cantine all morning. Beside you, Kathar tapped away at her pad; her legs swung over the arm of the chair in a human jigsaw.

This book was a good one: Satele Shan, Grand Master of the Jedi Order, finally confronts her feelings for her friend, Jace Malcolm. As the battle for Alderaan wages-

"Ma'am?"

Your eyes shot up, connecting with an armored trooper. Kathar followed your line of sight; her eyes squinting at the intruder in your little room. It wasn't standard protocol to have troopers walking around, unless there was some sort of issue with communications, or they'd gotten severely lost. Force, you hoped to hell there wasn't another comms reboot needed on this deck.

"Yes?"

The trooper shifted, white uniform gleaming in the artificial light. He reached into his pocket; pulling out a small scrap of _something._ It fluttered slightly in the air-conditioned room, and in your peripheral vision you noticed Kathar pretending not to be increasingly interested. You took it in your hands; recognising it instantly. It was a piece of paper; folded carefully, coloured as though by tea or age. You looked at it curiously as the trooper gave a quick nod, turning on heel.

Opening it, you were stunned. Beautiful script danced across your vision; handwritten on fresh ink. You weren't sure you had met anyone who could write; not since the Galactic Empire had taken hold of the galaxy. But in the days of old, it was said the Jedi Temples were filled with scrolls and texts; beautiful filigree lining the pages with knowledge. You'd have liked to have seen it.

The words made your heart sing, and filled you with an odd sense of confusion.

" _Meet at the ship at 12. Wear something informal. Don't delay. -B.S"_

Your chest gave a little flutter; but you immediately stifled it, folding the note and pushing it into your uniform pocket. You had no idea why he'd signed off with B.S; but you had to laugh. It could be a joke, right? B.S? Bullshitter? You didn't know him well enough to know even remotely whether he'd think that'd be a funny joke. You made a mental note to bring it up when you got there.

"Are you going to tell me, or are we going to pretend that didn't just happen?" Kathar mumbled, sliding her finger across her pad as she played some sort of game, brown curls bouncing as she sniffed slightly.

"I, uh..."

You weren't sure. Were you going to tell her? Is that what this was? You hadn't told her about last night's soiree with your Commander because it all just seemed so...difficult. Difficult to explain, to put into words. You felt as though if it left the tip of your tongue, the reality would shatter. Manifesting it to anyone else seemed so complicated.

She snorted, waving a hand.

"Fine, fine! But if you're getting random scraps of paper from a secret suitor, I want one too. So ask if they have a hot sibling."

You chuckled, running a hand through your hair. It got stuck on a little tangle, which you pulled out with some work.

"But aren't you...you know?"

She slammed down her pad, lifting her brow comically.

"Adrian?..." you prompted, shuffling to grab your things.

She made a sound that told you all you needed to hear. No, things weren't going swimmingly in that department. She clearly saw him as slightly more than a friend; but he was quiet, and she was...well, she was her.

"You'll figure it out" you added, hugging your novel to your chest. Your legs were a little stiff, and you gave a stretch as you moved to the door.

"Leave it open in case any tall, dark, handsome strangers come asking for me!" she called, her voice echoing off of the metal walls.

She was a character, no two ways about it.

 

* * *

 

Strolling into the docking bay, you had to admit: you were increasingly nervous. Your palms were sweating buckets; mouth dry as Tatooine. In truth, you loved this sort of nerves though; the nervous energy of knowing you were on someone's mind, that you both were fumbling into something more than what you'd believed to be possible.

Shuffling through a group of officers; you suddenly felt a little self-conscious. Flowing dress-robes nipped at your legs, dipping down at your chest more than would have been acceptable in protocol. Your hair flowed loosely; pulled back by a few braids you'd haphazardly tried to add in. You'd heard it was the style at the moment, but you'd never been one for following the newest dress codes. You'd applied a little more than the average amount of makeup, too; something that made you stand apart starkly from the officers, eyeing you suspiciously as you elbowed through to the shuttle.

The ramp was down, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. Was this it, then? A journey into the unknown?

You shook off the brief weakness in your legs, trembling as you ascended the ramp into the cockpit. Your face creased into a smile immediately, face flooding with warmth. 

Kylo Ren was sitting in his chair; sifting through flight logs. You could see he'd opted for something a little more comfortable; cloak folded on the dashboard. He wore a padded shirt and trousers; the dark hue complimenting his jet black hair. On hearing you enter, he turned slightly; you could see his pale features in the corner of your periphery. He hit a button, and the ramp shrank away, the door to the cockpit clicking shut.

"Kylo", you smiled, hands trembling slightly "I'm a little early. I-"

But you didn't have time to finish the sentence. In what seemed like a heartbeat; Kylo spun out of his chair, moving to his feet and crossing the room to you. You barely had time to gasp in surprise as he pulled you to his chest; crushing his lips to yours with such force that you almost tripped over your own feet. You sighed; his full lips pressed to yours with such urgency that the room span. Your hands wound up around his shoulders, and you felt him smile against your mouth.

"I told you" he muttered, smile pushing at his lip "not soon enough".

Your heart fluttered, your lids heavy as you took in his features. He really was extraordinary; soft honey-flecked eyes, elegant features. You honestly had no idea what he had been doing under that mask for so long; hiding away as though he wanted to keep the world out. He truly had nothing to be ashamed of, even with the grand purple bruise that lingered on his face, now yellowing as it slowly healed.

"We're going somewhere?"

"Mmmm".

"...should I know where we're going?"

He chewed at the inside of his cheek, his eyes scanning you intently, moving up and down your body. A sound escaped his lips; his dark lashes fluttering.

 _"Force"_ he breathed, "you look..."

Your hands wandered into his hair, and he seemed to lose all train of thought. He nuzzled against the curve of your palm; you delighted in the warmth of his tresses at your fingertips.

"Isn't focus part of the Jedi mantra?"

"There are a lot of things that are part of the Jedi mantra" he admitted, his eyes darkening slightly. He pushed away, and your hand fell to your side. Moving with that ethereal grace; he slid into the pilot's seat. You took that as your invitation, and quickly strode to the co-pilot's chair. Your face was burning; your veins filled with electricity. You dared not look over, but he started up the engines, and you started the sequence.

You heard him tapping the screen; plugging in coordinates, setting the appropriate jumps. There was something dangerous and enticing about all of this: the Commander of the First Order, whisking you away into the unknown. And something a little scary, too. Kylo Ren would always be a dangerous weapon, no matter how many times he gave you sweet eyes and trembling lips.

"So...you still haven't told me where we're going".

He looked over, flashing you a gaze. _Wait for it._

* * *

 

 

You were positively enraptured as the ramp descended; the sea breeze filling your lungs and whipping your hair. You had no idea where you were; but the ramp descended onto what looked like a rocky surface. Kylo Ren was still winding down the shuttle, but you couldn't help yourself. You clambered down the ramp, trying to stifle a gasp.

This world was _beautiful_. The sky was as blue as you'd ever seen it, pulling you back to the dream you had several days ago. You had landed on a small, rocky outcrop; but around you, the ocean rose and fell, reaching out to the horizon. Red corals seemed to grow above the water, their branches almost treelike in formation. And the sun beamed down; the only sign of any dismay was a swell of clouds far off on the horizon.

"This is...This is incredible".

Kylo Ren's boots descended on the metal ramp, clicking as he followed you. When he reached the ground, he looked up; brown eyes surveying his landing site. His black hair was instantly thrown around in the wind; you had to stifle a little laugh as he pulled it out of his face in irritation.

"Pillio" he announced, scraping his boot across the ground. It gave an audible crunch, kicking up a slight amount of grey dust.

You chewed your lip, looking out to the horizon.

"Is this place safe? I mean, we're not about to get intercepted by a Republic bombing fleet, right?"

His face contorted with frustration.

"It's safe".

Oh, yep. There's the Kylo Ren you remembered.

He started walking, taking brisk steps as he moved toward the waterfront. You tried to keep up; taking two steps for every one he took. You couldn't help but regard just how incredibly huge he was; and just how intimidating he had seemed to you at first. Eventually, he stopped; several feet from the water. You were a little ways behind, trying to navigate around a particularly spiky piece of coral. As you approached him, he kicked the dirt again; this time, it seemed to stay in place, and he appeared satisfied.

"You know, when you invited me" you huffed, pushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear "you could have told me there'd be a practical aspect of this date".

His eyes shot around, almost clinically analysing you.

"Date". He repeated it as though the word was foreign on his tongue.

You froze, a little shot of fear in your chest. Was that too much?

"Isn't that what this is?"

He sniffed, eyes dropping to his feet.

"I...yes".

You could swear the blood had rushed to his cheeks; stark against his pale skin. There was something rather endearing about the whole thing, and you felt the Force around him humming. You were beginning to get better at reading it, you assumed. His emotions seemed to flow with more clarity to you, as though they gave impressions through the way they buzzed in your veins. 

He slowly sat down, brushing his gloved hands against his sides. He offered his left hand to you; you took it softly, lowering yourself to sit at his side. His shoulder brushed yours, and you shivered from the contact. There was something intimate in the simple action of your proximity, and it left you feeling a little breathless. As you looked out across the water; you saw another small island, the same red corals growing from its crest. Such a beautiful planet. Such a beautiful place.

You nudged at his shoulder, a smug look forming on your features.

"I didn't know you could write".

He chewed his bottom lip, his chest moving as he sighed.

"Not particularly well".

You could have laughed. In what world could he not write well? His handwriting was beautiful. Incredible. Loops and lines made with the utmost care.

"You have hidden talents, Kylo Ren. More than you give yourself credit for".

He seemed dissatisfied; and his gloved hand fumbled for something. He gained purchase on a lose piece of rock, and threw it toward the ocean. It immediately sank, giving an audible plop as it disappeared from sight.

"Kylo: what's B.S? Is that a nickname?"

He seemed to stiffen; you felt the Force around you shift and move, more defensive now than it had been. You'd hit a nerve, there. Somehow. He caught your eyes, laying back until his back rested on the volcanic-looking rocky surface. His brown eyes met yours; searching your face for something, looking for a response. Instead: you leaned back, and he reached an arm around to support your head. His arm was huge enough to act as a pillow; the padded coat providing such comfort. You turned your face to his, but his eyes were already on yours, still studying you with incredible intensity.

"My name".

You blinked, watching his full lips crease together into a sharp line.

"Your...name?"

His fingers carefully closed around your shoulder, pulling you slightly closer. You could feel his heartbeat against your ribs; fluttering wildly, much faster than your own. You wondered whether it was fear or anticipation; or both, to be honest.

"Ben".

Confusion filled your mind, your brow creasing as you tried to make sense of it. And then it hit you: Kylo Ren was a title. A pseudo-name.

You lifted your fingers to his face; delicately tracing at the corner of his eyes. Every part of him seemed youthful, seemed as though it were untouched by human hands. But not his eyes; his eyes were ancient. Not in that they looked aged, but in that they were the eyes of a man who had seen more in a moment than most had in their lives. You wondered what horrors he had seen; and how they haunted him with such fervor.

"A beautiful name" you whispered, "Ben".

You heard him suck in a breath; his eyes closing tightly. He pushed his head into the crease of your neck, his nose pushing at the dip in your jaw. You felt a slight wetness; just a small amount of tears, pulling at his eyes. He was ashamed, that much you knew. You could feel it through the Force; the shame of his weakness at his birth name leaving your lips. The first time he'd heard it in years, and you had said it with such tenderness that something inside of him had broken.

You decided to change the subject, then. Something to move away from this. At your thinking this, he was immediately thankful; and you realised he was getting better at reading you, too. There was some danger in that, but now wasn't the time.

"You read my dossier, right?"

He pressed a slight kiss to your jaw, making you shiver. You nipped at your lip, frustration hitching in your chest.

"Yes".

His breath on your neck made you soften, and he pulled back, his eyes lowered. You could see they looked a little red, a little swollen. But he had learned to return to composure in worse situations; and he held himself steady.

You swallowed, turning to look up at the sky. Blue, endless blue; dotted by little white clouds that scattered your periphery. So different from the Nar Shaddaa sky, the smog of city living.

"What did it say?"

He gritted his teeth, eyelids fluttering.

"You lived on Nar Shaddaa. You were orphaned at nine. You were taken in by a mechanic with a history of bad debt. You signed on for the Republic military. You..."

Ben trailed off, and you sighed.

"Go on", you muttered.

"No".

"Why?" you asked "Or should I finish it for you?"

He chewed at his lip, meeting your eyes. Intensity, sadness, understanding. Pain.

"You couldn't have done anything".

He didn't believe that. You didn't believe that. But there was nothing to be made of it, now. In the end; there was nothing there to mourn over. No time for grief when there were promises left to keep.

"I lay awake at night" you swallow, biting back tears "and I wonder: if I had made different choices, where would I be? Would I be someone else? If I had been more patient, more willing, more able. I'd be someone else. Someone I can be proud of".

Out of your periphery; you saw Ben look up, wistfully. His grip on your arm tightened, and you leaned against him, your face resting on his chest. You could hear the thrum of his heart; and he pressed a tentative kiss on on your hair, breathing in the scent of your shampoo. And there you lay; saying nothing, holding one another as the world fell away. His chest rose and fell like the ocean; lulling you into security. And through the Force, you heard his mind. Clear and strong, over and over. Your words on his mind; your hands on his chest. 

_Ben, Ben, Ben._

* * *

 

_"Please" you gasped, your finger trembling on the trigger of your blaster. The night air bit at your cheeks; smog filling your nose. But none of that mattered; not now. You knew how this would end, and you couldn't bare it._

_Nehan's eyes were wild, his blonde hair matted with sweat. The shutters on the building seemed to flap in the breeze; unknowing families sheltered under the safety of the corrugated roofing. In his hands; he fumbled at the detonator. Such a tiny thing, a tiny button. Primed. Ready to take them all to oblivion._

_"You don't understand", he spat, tears dripping down his muddy cheeks "they're gone. There's nothing left now. Nothing left for me"._

_You made an inhuman noise, your teeth grinding._

_"Don't think I won't shoot you"._

_He laughed; but the sound was cold. There was no emotion to it; none whatsoever. Nehan was gone, now. Lost in grief, in tragedy. He was willing to die for this._

_"Oh, I know you will. That's what I love about you, you know. You always knew right from wrong; always pushed back when the other kids pushed. Joining the Republic, the 'good guys'"._

_Your heart hurt. It ached. A part of you was wilting, dying away. Grating you until there was nothing left to grate._

_"They made a mistake" you gulped, dangerously close to breaking down "it was an accident. They thought she was working for the Exchange. They saw your credentials on the file..."_

_"OF COURSE THEY DID!" he yelled, spit falling from his lips "YOU GAVE ME UP! I CAME BACK, AND YOU GAVE ME UP! AND NOW THEY'RE DEAD!"_

_You couldn't restrain the sob, then. It wracked you; wracked your core. You couldn't breathe, and the world zoomed in and out of focus. He looked at you like a stranger; like a monster._

_"You remember, when we were kids. On the rooftop"._

_You nodded, your eyes stinging._

_"To mean something. It has to mean something", you recalled._

_He nodded, raising his hands slightly. You pushed the barrel of the blaster closer in your hand; the weight of it making your wrist feel limp._

_"You know what's worse than it not meaning anything?"_

_You shook your head, pulling your lips over your teeth._

_"When you get a glimpse of it, and then it's gone"._

_He reaches for the button, and your blaster goes off. You're not even thinking as the shots sink into him; his shoulder, his chest, his arm._

_One, two,_

_Three._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was starting to feel a bit grim with all of the drama, so wanted something uplifting before I start dropping the tonne of bricks that'll be coming soon. But I also can't seem to resist adding a little drama? Why am I the way I am?
> 
> In an unrelated note: THE LAST SHOT CAME OUT TODAY! It's a book about Han and Lando and their escapades. It's exquisite, and apparently baby Ben "snorfles" in it. I'm not crying, you're crying. Read it if you get the chance!
> 
> Glossary:
> 
> Paper: Okay, you obviously know what paper is (derpa derp). But to clarify: nobody writes on paper in Star Wars anymore. It's super rare. Anyone who can hand-write is considered to be basically honing an ancient skill. We know young Ben Solo was into it though, because in TLJ he has a calligraphy set on his desk in the flashback.
> 
> Pillio: A planet under First Order control. Luke Skywalker went searching there in Battlefield II for the Emperor's Observatory. It's a beautiful oceanic planet, home to scritters and above-water coral plants. 
> 
> Satele Shan: Grand Master of the Jedi Order in The Old Republic. Ancestor of the incredible Bastilla Shan and Darth Revan; Bastilla was the incredible woman behind Battle Meditation, which was an incredible skill. Darth Revan was...oh man, just google him yourself. The effort I'd expend having to explain him is insane.


	9. The Magician

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo Ren knows the dangers in what he's doing. But he's enraptured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little shakeup; this chapter will be from Kylo Ren's perspective. I wanted to do one of these and was waiting for the right time. Enjoy!

The mornings were the only times he felt anything close to safety.

His dreams were haunted, it seemed. Constantly burrowing into his skull; thoughts and memories pulling at the edges of his mind. He'd sweat and shake, falling in and out of consciousness. When still under, he'd see their faces. He'd see his mother, dark hair braided as she took his hand. He'd see his father; cold and solemn and far away. He'd see his master; lightsaber poised, eyes filled with sorrow and fear. He'd see his friends, the only friends he'd ever had; scattered corpses.

He'd see Snoke, and that would terrify him more than anything. Even in his dreams, he could never be truly safe. There was no harbor for him, in the dead of night. He'd often wake screaming, or silently sobbing. But somehow, being awake was worse. The scenes would amplify in his mind; spiraling, pulling him under like an ocean of tar. Every clink in the ship as it passed through dead space rattled in his bones. Every conscious mind in proximity to him was a blur of emotion, thoughts, fears. He could almost feel the radiation leaking from nearby stars; feel every indent in the Force that his conscious mind could comprehend.

_"It hurts", he gulped. His lips trembled, head pasted with sweat as he gripped his sheets._

_"I know, Ben. I know."_

_Luke did know, in some ways. He had seen the price of war, the price of death. He felt the pain that reverberated through the Force; faceless nightmares. But nothing like this. Ben could tell from the way Luke's eyes traveled over his face with concern, his callused hands against the young man's forehead. There was something wrong with him. Something Luke couldn't fix. Something that made Luke afraid._

_"Am...Am I broken?"_

_Luke looked heartbroken. His eyes softened, filled with compassion for the teenage boy. He was desperate to sleep. Terrified to wake._

_"You're not broken, Ben. You're different"._

_But Ben didn't want to be different. Not at all._

So he'd train. He'd throw himself into becoming better, more of a weapon. In the early hours of the morning, he'd walk the empty corridors to the upper decks. He'd practice, over and over; never with a simulation. Throwing his weight into his swing, the heavy crack of his saber pulsing red in his palm. It gave him structure. And his fear, his anger, his pain; made him a deadly fighter. Made him feel as though he were carved out of that darkness; a dead star.

After training, he'd shower. The hot water running through his hair, down his back. He always ran the showers too hot, hotter than was safe. As though the water might soothe the scars on his skin, wash off the pain and sweat from the night. It always helped, a little. Even though it left him raw and stinging, it seemed to ease something for him. He would catch himself in the mirror, and feel a jolt. Snoke had often made it clear; he had to learn to see his appearance as a reflection of his work. As he gave over to the Dark Side, his body would resemble it. Yellowing eyes, scarred features. Badges of pride, the medals of war. 

He _hated_ it. It tore him apart, the first time he'd seen the smallest change. The purple skin around his eyes growing more pronounced; a little darkness in the corners of his lids. The way the muscles in his lips seemed to have atrophied when he forced a smile. It was debilitating; destabilizing. The mask helped, but he avoided mirrors, even then. Kylo Ren didn't want to catch a glimpse of Ben Solo, dying a little every time.

The Bridge was bustling, that day. His gloved hands itched, cloak flowing at his heel. Thoughts and feelings rising like a crescendo, he gritted his teeth. It had been getting worse, recently. He was becoming more unbalanced, less able to regulate his mind.

"Reports are here, Ren. We caught a Resistance reconnaissance ship, surveying our weapons capabilities".

Hux. A rabid, filthy scourge on the First Order's back. If Kylo Ren had it his way; Hux would have been shot in the back, left dead or dying. The animosity that flowed through his thoughts were easy pickings; his motivations transparent. Hux saw Kylo Ren as nothing more than a barrier to his success. Kylo Ren felt much the same.

"I assume you dealt with the situation accordingly."

Hux's mouth pressed into a thin line, beady eyes meeting Kylo Ren's visor in annoyance. He clasped his hands behind his back, walking slowly across the platform. Kylo Ren didn't move; didn't so much as give the man the satisfaction.

"Of course. By order of the Supreme Leader".

 _By order of the Supreme Leader._ Words drawn out in an attempt to shut down lines of questioning. The Supreme Leader commanded it; and that was that.

"And your plan for avoiding this oversight in the future?". Kylo Ren pressed, tilting his head slightly. Even in his mask, he felt his lip curl. That would surely rile Hux, which was perhaps one of the few areas that could give any joy.

Hux looked livid. Kylo Ren was almost certain; if there were not several dozen people cautiously eyeing the two, Hux may have tried to murder him. Again.

"Is none of your concern".

"When last I checked, I am Commander of the First Order".

Hux stepped forward, almost toe-to-toe with Kylo Ren. He was several inches shorter, but nonetheless; imposing.

"If you presume to question my capabilities again", Hux sneered "a conversation will be had between myself and the Supreme Leader. Fraternization is a criminal offence".

Kylo Ren's whole body stiffened. Hot, uncontrollable rage boiled through him; his fists grasped so tightly he could feel his knuckles ache in protest. He ground his teeth together, skin burning and body quaking. His every instinct was at war; his hands acutely aware of his lightsaber, clipped at his waist. One swift movement, and Hux would be silenced.

Hux was gaining unmatched enjoyment, watching with the ugliest smile. His eyes were alight; watching Kylo Ren, _knowing_ his safety was guaranteed. If Hux was struck down; there would be consequence. Kylo Ren would suffer, and Hux would be victorious. Even in death. This thought span through Kylo Ren's enraged mind; his breathing uncontrolled. He needed to get out of here, but he wasn't sure if he had the strength. In the end, though; his conscious mind won out, and he turned on heel, marching through the doors of the Bridge and down the corridor. Livid. So, so livid.

He walked quickly, rage threatening to boil over. Not here, not here.

An empty room at the end of the corridor was all he needed. He entered, his body immediately reacting. His lightsaber was in his palm before he knew it; blade unsheathing, red-hot electricity cracking through the air. His vocoder did nothing to hide the broken screams of rage as he threw the sword down onto the console. It sparked off, screens flashing static through their broken monitors. Again and again, he brought the saber crashing through the air; decimating the room. He was out of control. It were as though his body were on fire; as though he were burning alive. The only way to release it was to scream, to destroy. That was what the Supreme Leader had taught him, what he had trained to do. To release it, in fire and death and destruction. A weapon, inhuman and sharp.

 

He panted, mask heavy on his face, sweat clinging to his neck.

_"Again"._

_The voice was cold, low, deadly. Reverberating through him, as though it were an echo of the darkness in a deep cave. Ben's hand was the only thing holding him up as he stared at the metal floor; agony coursing through his veins. Electricity, pulsing through his black leathers, sparking on his skin. It felt as though his bones were splitting, his mind breaking. Nothing but darkness falling before him, a curtain of cruelty._

_"I can't", he gasped. He couldn't breathe, couldn't see._

_"You can. You will. Again."_

_Ben staggered to his feet, reluctance heavy on his mind. He was going to die. If he went through this pain again, he was sure he would die. Snoke stood before him; gnarled face watching, hand outstretched to shock him again. But this time; Ben wouldn't be so easily beaten._

_He gritted his teeth, a feral scream catching in his throat as he ran at his master. The Force was violently coursing through him; tearing through his veins as his new lightsaber threw crimson light on his skin._

_But it was no good. The electricity hit him and he crumpled; crying out in agony. Force, it was the most painful thing he'd ever experienced._

_"Again"._

The room was utterly decimated; but he felt more stable. The Darkness coursed through him, and he could focus again. Focus without the static interference of the ship's inhabitants. He sheathed his lightsaber, boots clicking as he left the room. _Someone else's mess to clean up._

As he made his way to Engine Control to examine Hux's claims; he froze. 

The Force was a funny thing, Kylo Ren had noticed. It never looked the same in two different people. Through some, it seemed to flow around them like water. In others, it was as though they were standing next to lightning. He could see the darkness around some; and around others, he always caught a glimpse of light, like the flash of a blaster as it leaves the barrel. But in one person, one seemingly ordinary individual; it was beautiful. Singular.

You.

He had noticed it when you'd first walked into his ship, of course. That background noise, pulsing. He had barely processed it then. But it had become something of a curiosity, after that had occurred: nothing was the same.

Whispers plucked at the corners of his mind; little thoughts in your head that he couldn't help but hear. He was becoming attuned to your mind, in some ways. Not severely, but...every time you were there, he'd edge a little closer to that magnetic pull your energy had on him. He couldn't help it. He didn't know what it meant, or what it was; or whether he should be afraid.

But his chest flooded with warmth, predictably. Anticipation pricking at his skin, he moved through the corridor until he came to an open metal door; a room used for radio transmissions, long-distance signal beaming.

 _Force._ Every time it hit him, it was absolutely all-encompassing. The magnetic hum of the Force, the need to close the gap between you. His veins would ache at the sight of you; distracted by your work. Your lips pulled over your teeth in frustration; a small curl of hair falling from the bun at the back of your head. How could he not become unbalanced, with the Light jumping through the distance between you like that? With the way it wound through your hair, coloured your eyes?

"Busy?"

He announced his presence, and you visibly flinched. You had been lost in your work, as you often were. But you turned to face him, and it scattered his mind. Smile plucking at your lips, sending his heart into a commotion he still hadn't gotten used to.

"You tell me, Commander". You teased, and he bit at his lip, eyes wide. He was glad you couldn't see him getting hot and bothered, under his mask. That was an added benefit of wearing it; it allowed him to hide what he imagined was a rather pathetic-looking blush that spread across his cheeks.

Kylo Ren's boots clicked as he moved to where you stood, still calibrating the console, a sly smile at your lips. He hesitated briefly; and he hated it. He was still wary that this was all some foul trick; some strange ploy. He wasn't sure he trusted anybody enough to so much as take his helmet off in front of them: let alone to do this. But fighting back his caution, he shakily moved his arms to wrap around your waist from behind. You let out a sound; a laugh, mixed with a contented sigh.

"Give me two minutes, and I'm all yours".

 _I'm all yours._ Force above, that was tantalizing. And he thought he was monstrous; but you were something else entirely. He wondered if you'd say that sort of thing if you knew what it _did_ to him: the ache below his belt so acute that he felt positively pained by it. He breathed, and it was heavier than he'd expected, lust colouring the sound. Naturally, he was relieved when it hardly registered through his vocoder; but so often he'd felt that exact relief. 

_"Oh for...I don't have to look at your face, if that's what you're worried about. I just need to bandage your neck"._

_Kylo Ren really, really didn't want you to see his face. At all. He was...ashamed? Anxious? He wasn't sure. But Force be damned, he could feel the blood seeping out of his neck, making him woozy and his thoughts all strange. He swallowed, grasping the clasps on the side with a bumbling motion._

_You paused, and the Force seemed to change. He caught strange words, emotions he didn't understand. Surprise? You weren't expecting this; that much he knew of. It made him feel less cautious, anyway. He heard you unwrap the bandage, and your fingers lightly brushed his hair upward to get a better purchase on the cut._

_Fuck. The sound escaped his lips somewhere between a hiss and a moan; and he was immediately embarrassed and flustered. Fuck, he had never...never been touched like this. Not in living memory, by anyone. It wasn't even an intimate touch; you were bandaging a wound. But something about your hands, about the way you wound them into his hair with such delicate touches created a new pain entirely. He was completely in despair at realising that despite his neck having a gaping wound and your established dislike of him; he was rock hard under his trousers. This was uncharted territory, and he sunk his teeth down into his lip, squeezing his eyes shut and willing this whole escapade to be over._

The memory just exacerbated his blush; and he resolved not to take the mask off until it stopped. After all; a momentary self-indulgence wasn't so bad. You bit at your thumb, tapping away at the console. In truth, he had no real idea what you were doing, but he watched anyway, the sides of his cloak pressing against your face.

"You're very warm", you remarked, your lashes fluttering as you blinked "did you come from training?"

"Yes". It wasn't _technically_ a lie. 

You gave an audibly disappointed sigh, typing in coordinates. Kylo Ren knew he'd been caught out, at that point. As it were, he often forgot you were Force Sensitive; it'd been too long since he'd been this physically and emotionally close to another Force User. He wasn't quite sure how much you were able to read from him, or whether you were both only getting vague flashes.

"Every time they send cleanup into one of those rooms; somebody tries to convince Hux to space you".

Kylo Ren did chuckle a little at that; unused muscles feeling weak and difficult. 

"You'd let them?" he asked, his vocoder conveying his jovial tone.

You tipped your hand from side to side mockingly. _Could go either way._

"You and General Hux seem to have mutual distaste for me", Kylo added. His arms snaked tighter around your waist; he could feel the heat of your skin under your uniform, feel the thin barrier of clothes and gloves between you.

You scoffed, loading up a map of the ship. He still had no idea what you were doing, but he was otherwise preoccupied by your presence.

"Oh, Ben. Ever underestimating my disdain for that prick".

The noise Kylo made this time _did_ register through his vocoder; and it was utterly pathetic. A whimper, almost. Luckily, it came out as some sort of static-filled sigh, and that was astoundingly better. He was ever grateful to himself for deciding not to take the mask off today; he was more acutely unbalanced than he'd assumed. But the sound of his name, the name he'd been born to and lived with and tried to escape; shaping your lips, soaked with Light and admiration and compassion: it was so confronting. He wasn't sure what he was feeling; a strange emotion, without the words to describe it. Unbelievably powerful. It were as though whenever you said that name, the Light from your soul surged through into his core; lighting up areas that he had long since forgotten. Healing scars that he didn't know existed. Opening wounds in his mind to drain the corruption; but forcing through those sensations he was trying to repress.

It was terrifying.

"Oh, I'm...sorry" you breathed, your voice sounding as worn as he'd felt. You'd felt that, then. That wound. Your eyes were off the screen, staring into his visor. He imagined you could see nothing but darkness, and he was glad of it. "Would you rather I didn't call you that?"

Kylo Ren stiffened, then.

Would he? Would he rather that?

On the one hand; it was wounding. It was unbalancing. And he had gotten used to Kylo, now. It was a name that inspired fear, commanded respect. When they saw him, the soldiers and the troopers and the enemies; they saw Kylo Ren. But on the other; when he was with you, he...wasn't. He was jittery and nervous and hurting, and anticipatory and fumbling and overwhelmed. And that, in his memory, was Ben Solo.

The words that came from his mouth then were surreal: words he'd never anticipated saying.

"No; I like the way it sounds on your lips. It will take some adjusting, though".

You nodded slowly, reaching your hand up to the cold exterior of his mask. He closed his eyes, despite feeling nothing but the pressure as it sat closer on his cheek.

"I've never noticed the indents on this thing" you mused, your hands delicately running across the cold exterior. He couldn't quite see what you were doing, but you seemed to be examining it with a curiosity on your features. Your hands moved around to the servomotors, running across them as you took them in.

"War scars".

You swallowed, chewing your top lip slightly. Oh, there that feeling was again; blood pumping, heart thudding. Wildfire and electricity. How did you do that with such simple actions?

"Did you make it?"

Kylo nodded _._ Your fingers lingered on the servomotors, feeling the clasps and arms that kept it affixed to his head. He imagined you were trying to understand the mechanism; you approached everything with the same nimble curiosity. Even through the mask, he could smell your perfume; his head spinning, your thoughts buzzing in his mind:

_Beautiful. Intricate. Cold. Ben. Wanting._

_Wanting._ The word, the emotion; it lingered in his mind, echoed in the corners. Warmth spreading through his body; spreading from his core. He'd wanted before; he knew he had. But not like this; never like this. He'd never...never so much as kissed another being before you. And now his thoughts were engulfed by wanting something he'd never thought would be possible for him. Or if it was, something he'd never...wanted. Wanted like this.

You moved your fingers down to his padded shirt, his hands still holding at your waist, at the base of your uniform. The way you were running your hands over the creases of the material... _fuck_. What was wrong with him? He'd kissed you and held you; and he'd maintained composure. But your hands weren't even against his skin; your lips weren't pressed to his. You couldn't even see his face. So why was he aching like this? What had changed?

Kylo chewed the inside of his lip, frustration eating away at him. His gloved fingers massaged circles into the material of your uniform, knowing he was gripping just a little tightly. Your face flushed, eyes heavy.

"I, uh..." you coughed, laughing slightly under your breath. You couldn't even look at his visor; as though his gaze was too intense. "I can hear you, you know".

Kylo Ren froze, thumbs falling still. _Shit. Shit shit shit._ He had let his thoughts run away from him one too many times. Fear struck him like ice, suddenly dampening the electricity in his bones.

"Hear what?"

You cleared your throat, dropping your arms to your sides.

"Well, you..." you swallowed "...it's all very...vague...but..."

He felt his heart pumping too fast; fear clutching at his chest. 

"I'm... _fuck_ ". He had no idea how those two words sounded coming out of a vocoder, let alone coming out of his mouth. Very 'Commander Ren; Leader of the Knights of Ren, Heir-Apparent to the Empire'.

You cracked up, then. You tried to stile the laugh by pushing your hand to your mouth, but it didn't work at all. He watched as you were overcome with it; tears at the edges of your eyes.

"Oh my" you gasped for breath, your hand on your chest "did you just say _fuck_?"

Kylo Ren's lips creased into a line, trying to suppress a smile himself. He must admit, it had come as a shock to him, too.

"My vocoder-" he created a noise with his teeth, whistling air through them to create static. An unbelievably terrible way to deal with the situation, but he was in deep.

Your laughter was musical; beautiful. You pressed a kiss to the side of his mask; and his head span again.

"So he _does_ have a sense of humour".

"I have to..." Kylo Ren began, still blowing noises into the vocoder. He had to admit; he was enjoying himself. He turned on heel, hands clasped into fists as your laughter rang out through the room. His boots clicked on the metal floor as he opened the door, sliding through it and out into the corridor.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DID YOU ALL LIKE THAT SEXUAL TENSION BECAUSE I SURE DID  
> I figured we all needed a chill time after the last chapter got 3 deep 5 me.
> 
> Glossary:
> 
> Servomotors: Technical term for the clasps on Kylo's mask. 
> 
> Vocoder: It's Kylo Ren's name for his modulator. He's a stickler Meeseeks.


	10. Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An important mission leads to more than one dangerous confrontation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Action-packed chapter ahead. PLOT DEVELOPMENT!

Your eyes nervously darted back and forth around the long table; tapping your fingers on the glass as you straightened in your chair. These meetings were rare, and never, ever good. Hux had sent through a message to twenty or so officers, holding rank Lieutenant or above, requesting a meeting.

Requesting being a term that in any other ship would not be so interchangeable with demanding.

Your eyes darted through the sea of uniforms; recognising some familiar faces. Lopi was hurriedly tapping at her communications pad; red hair bobbing as she moved her eyes. Across from you; Dopheld Mitaka sheepishly surveyed the crowd, his uniform as neatly pressed as ever. He was an exceptional Lieutenant with a penchant for making you feel rather anxious. In saying that: you wondered how someone could _avoid_ anxiety if they worked in such close proximity to Hux. You'd always rather liked and pitied Dopheld; and assumed, with good reason, that he'd end up being one of the first casualties should the General be having a bad day.

The sliding door opened, and General Asshole himself moved into the room. Dopheld seemed to jump up, standing as though it were instinctual. Several other officers reacted similarly; nodding their heads, quiet mutterings of _"good morning, sir"_ and _"it's good to see you general"._ You stayed firmly poised in your seat, watching Hux with suspicion as his sunken eyes took in the room with distaste. His red hair had been slicked back; and he was wearing one of his less joyous expressions at the corners of his mouth.

_This was not good at all._

The General marched over to the end of the table closest to you; tapping the surface console and waiting for it to load.

"Sit" Hux demanded, tone dripping with impatience.

Dopheld hastily scooted into his seat; pale face flushed with colour.

"Now", Hux sucked in a breath, "this meeting..."

You felt a familiar hum; your blood sparking as you tried to focus. But as soon as the words had left Hux's mouth; the door slid open again. Kylo Ren stood at the doorway; mask affixed, cloak trailing. You remembered that not long ago, his visage inspired such fear that you'd almost fainted on the floor of his ship. But everything had changed, somehow. His presence was an almost unmatched comfort, the Force drawing you closer. You felt a little giddy at the sight of him; which is more than can be said for many of the officers in the room, who once again jumped to standing. They were intimidated by Hux; but they were frankly terrified of Kylo Ren. You could see it in their eyes; see it in the way Dopheld drew in a shaky breath, the Force splintering off of him in pained sweats.

"Ah, Ren. You finally decided to join us".

The way that Hux's eyes took in Kylo Ren was a whole other level. The animosity, the hatred. It was leaking from his tongue; his words coming off with incredible bitterness.

Kylo Ren said nothing; but slid into the seat at the opposite end of the table to the General. For the briefest moment, his masked face lingered on yours: and you could almost feel Hux's beady grey eyes trying to roast through your skull. You had assumed Lopi had been exaggerating claims that Hux had sensed your fondness for the Commander; but you were now certain she was not. 

"Don't let me interrupt you, General". Kylo Ren's monotone voice set the room on edge; a battle of wits between the General and the Commander silently waging. The whole atmosphere was so intense that Dopheld looked like he might very well faint.

Hux's brow twitched as he pulled his attention back to loading up a map, the only sound in the room being his tapping fingers as he cycled through reports.

_"Hello."_

Your brain hummed as you heard the voice; reverberating in your mind as though it were coming from your own mouth. But it wasn't your voice at all; it was Kylo Ren's voice. Your blood pricked with curiosity; that building gravity instantly making you acutely aware of his presence. Shit, this was cool. It was like...Force-Comms. Force Telepathy? Force Radio? You weren't sure how he was doing it, but you shot him a look; _hi._

"This meeting is of paramount security level. Yesterday, a signal was intercepted on Yavin 4: we believe Rebellion Forces have intel on an incredibly significant piece of cargo relevant to the First Order's interest".

This piqued you, you had to admit. 

"As of yet; we cannot verify this intel as being accurate. However; if our source is viable, we are without the means to seize it. It sits behind a sealed door; activated with a one-way magnetic lock. Our attempts to slice it would be futile. The cargo cannot be destroyed; but cannot fall into the hands of the Rebellion. Military intervention on Yavin 4 would be considered an act of war; and would incite backlash from Republic forces."

You had no idea what was so valuable that it had to be kept behind a magnetic lock; sealed away, gathering dust. But you felt your body tense; magnetic locks. What was it Tarna-Sul used to say about magnetic locks?

"And we have no option to blow the door?" one captain asked, his light-grey uniform glowing in the artificial lighting.

Hux gave him a glare that shut him up immediately. No; that would be pointless. Magnetic locks couldn't be destroyed in that manner; not without weapons that could level an entire village. And that would not be efficient. You were thinking, your brain processing as your brow creased. 

As your mouth opened, you heard the word very clearly ringing in your mind. A command, cold and flat:

_"Don't"._

Fuck that. You had a job to do. You signed a contract. You were in this for the long haul.

"Sir", you coughed. Every soul at the table turned to you; eyes boring into your skull as though you might have pulled out a blaster then and there. Hux's lip curled slightly; sneer pulling at his features.

"I...I can do it."

Hux's red brow curved upward in feigned surprise. You wondered if he knew you were going to offer this from the start; whether this whole meeting was simply his twisted way of seeing how far you were willing to go for this job. Apparently, a lot further than you'd originally thought.

"Lieutenant. Elaborate".

"Well", you swallowed, your mouth bone-dry "...I worked swoop for over a decade. And to my understanding, older mag locks used the same technology as repulsorlifts. Swoops ran on repulsorlift, and reprogramming them was most of my job. They...they have to have a dedicated control mainframe externally and internally. But if it has a safety control lock, it can be bypassed if you know how to...bypass it."

General Hux had clearly not understood one iota of what you said; but his eyes glinted. You dared not look at Kylo Ren; not with the waves of pure annoyance rolling off of him, tainting the air with a miasma of concern. But you couldn't think about that now: all you could think about was the big shitstorm you'd just willingly marched into, guns blazing. 

"No."

All twenty-something people in the room snapped around to Kylo Ren: and no-one faster than you. Your heart had practically stopped; your lip trembling as you stared him down. You couldn't help but suck down the feeling of betrayal rising in your chest, seeking to make you physically react. This was a mistake; he was making a mistake.

"No? No what?" Hux spat, hands almost balling into fists as he glowered at Kylo Ren's masked form.

"No. Find someone else".

You thought you might faint. Lopi looked like she was going to be sick. Dopheld wouldn't stop _looking_ at you as though you were some sort of animal.

Hux looked absolutely enraged. His face contorted; scrunching like an angry little man.

"You presume to command MY personnel?! On MY mission?! In direct violation of orders by the Supreme Leader himself?!"

" _Commander_ ", you interjected, hands trembling a little. Your emphasis on Commander may as well have been you signing your own death warrant, because Kylo Ren shot you a look that even through his mask, you could tell was absolutely venomous "I am confident in my ability to complete this mission, _sir_. I will return to my duties on my return".

Kylo Ren said nothing at all to that; but he stood up with such a sudden movement that Dopheld let out a squeak. For a brief moment, you wondered whether he was going to kill Hux and be done with it; but instead he stormed out, taking the burning fire of rage that surged through the Force with him.

Hux watched him go with the most hideous look of amusement, and the whole room seemed to slowly relax.

"In any case," he added "you'll leave in ten minutes. Take a TIE-fighter and no additional personnel.The information will be uploaded to the ship; report back to me personally when you return. And excellent work, Captain. You're dismissed".

 _Ten minutes? Report personally? Captain?_ Hey, maybe this was a worthwhile career move. You nodded, side-stepping out of your chair and making for the door as fast as your legs could carry you. If you didn't think about the painful banging of your heart in your chest, the ringing in your ears; you might be able to feel a little proud of yourself for taking matters into your own hands. You silently thanked Tarna-Sul for all that time he spent telling you about how to do system bypassing that you'd written off as useless garbage.

Heading down the corridor, you kept your eyes forward. Captain. You liked the sound of it. Captain in the First Order. Captain. Captain...

"That was naive".

Kylo Ren's modulator cracked with anger as he strode next to you effortlessly; even at your hurried pace. You swallowed, unnerved by his sudden appearance and jolting conversation starter. Oh, and the deadening feeling of betrayal that caught in your chest every ten seconds.

"Yes, well. Rather less naive than you making a scene in front of twenty senior naval officers and the General".

You could tell he was surprised and utterly pissed off at your words; positively deadpan. You rounded a corner, heading for the nearby docking bay.

" _I am still your Commander_ ".

You choked back a laugh, your eyes catching on his masked face. He was looking dead ahead, and you both weaved through a crowd of troopers that barked acknowledgements at him. Oh, you bet he just loved that.

"Well then. That was naive, _sir_ ". You almost spat it; anger rising in your voice.

He grabbed your arm, then. His fingers tight on your forearm, stopping you in your tracks. You wanted to pull away, to shrug him off, to tell him he could go and fuck himself. He'd dismissed your ability, he'd made a very non-discreet and public scene, he'd stormed out like a child and then called you naive. Oh, and then he'd decided to remind you there was a chain of command. He was unbelievable. A scared little boy, playing games. You were both stood in the middle of the corridor; the entrance to the docking bay just beyond a set of steel doors. It was a reasonably busy area of the ship; and you were _fuming_ that he'd so publicly scold you like this.

"Get off", you snapped. You struggled against his grip; but he held fast.

"You are _impossible_ ".

"I'm impossibly pissed off. Get off of me".

He released his grip, and you pulled away roughly. He tipped his head slightly; as though he were examining you. Trying to work out what it was that you were doing. The Force around him was surprisingly hard to read; that familiar hum you usually felt now almost consciously stifled. As though he were putting in real, conscious effort to stop you from seeing his thoughts, his feelings, anything. You tried, but immediately felt recoil; as though you were walking up to a shut door.

"You can care about someone's safety and also respect their autonomy, Ben. Figure it out".

Oh. You did feel it, then. It was as though someone had thrown ice water in your face; you could feel a palpable kick in the gut, reverberating off of him. Your words had actively wounded him; and you had to admit, it was hard to stifle the guilt you felt. But you weren't going to take this shit; not from anyone. You weren't going to compromise what you had worked hard to build for anyone; and that was that. You shot one last glare at him, and exited through the doors of the docking bay; head high.

* * *

 

_"You've got an excellent dossier. Truly. And how many languages?"_

_"Eight, sir. Although my Mando'a is rustier now than it once was"._

_Your cheeks pinched up into a fake smile as the officer tapped on his pad, scanning through your paperwork. He looked nice enough; navy-blue uniform, emblazoned with the sigil of the First Order. In all honesty; you knew little about them. Your time in the Republic had taught you they were mostly a group of political extremists; not really taken seriously as anything more than renegades. But you'd seen firsthand their elegant organisation; and your eyes had practically fallen out of your head when you saw the pay. Enough to buy the shop ten times over._

_"Ah, I thought I recognised the surname. Your mother..."_

_"-Yes. Imperial reconnaissance."_

_He nodded, his slight features examining you with awe, searching for some resemblance. Some trace that you were who you claimed to be. He seemed satisfied by what he found there; and you felt a flash of discomfort. You had never really known your mother; she had died long before you were old enough to know her well. Your father had adored her; despite his clear distaste for the Empire. She was the love of his life, and after she died: his heart had broken._

_"If you'll sign this, we'll assign you a post. With your previous experience, though: you'll likely be perfect in General Hux's command. Let me just transfer the contract..."_

You blinked away the memory, your feet crunching against dead leaves. You had successfully arrived on Yavin 4; through an admittedly bumpy flight path. Flying TIE-Fighter was nothing like the simulator had promised it would be; far more uncomfortable and claustrophobic than you'd hoped. But you'd landed without a hitch, which you'd been told was the hard part. Your communications pad was out of range of The Finalizer; but Hux had made good on his word and transferred you the projected location of this mysterious door. To be honest, this was even more simple than you'd expected; and this hidden object was so exciting.

The treeline gave way to what looked like an ex-rebel bunker; covered with twigs and roots. The bunker seemed to journey into the earth; and the inside appeared dark and dingy. But as you analysed the entrance, you noticed muddy footprints on the floor. Crusty, old: but present. New enough that your skin pricked, your hand instinctively reaching to your standard issue blaster. 

You lowered yourself down, and the sound of debris tumbling into the bunker made you wince. Shit. If you died in an underground bunker, Kylo Ren would feel awfully vindicated. That was not on your agenda for today; not at all. Your communications pad began to whir; picking up on a magnetic seal. Yes, this was the place. You felt apprehension, slowly moving into the mouth of the derelict area. Your eyes adjusted to the light; or lack thereof. 

Every shadow that flickered from the light of your communications pad set you on edge; your teeth chattering. Something wasn't right here. You hadn't seen any enemy ships, but there was something in The Force. Telling you to turn around. To get out, to get away. To fly back to the Finalizer and take your punishment on the nose. Your head ached; your throat dry. And as you rounded a corner, light filtered through from a hole in the ceiling. And silently illuminated-

"HANDS UP!" you screamed, your finger dancing across the trigger of your blaster. Your brain felt like it was burning; your heart absolutely hammering.

The man threw his hands into the air instinctively; as though this was regular practice. Instinctive. His face turned to yours; his expression unreadable. Almost casual. Black curls of short hair framed his steady eyes, jaw sharp and taught. He appeared to be wearing incredibly casual gear: a brown leather pilot's jacket and climbing pants. Scattered around him appeared to be some sort of apparatus: decoders, scramblers, a blaster. His eyes darted to the blaster at his feet, and you moved your blaster closer to him.

"Who are you?!" you demanded, your voice slick with fear and anger.

"I'm Herren Per'olos. A smuggler for-"

Your finger slid across the trigger, red escaping from the barrel. The blast echoed through the hallway; hitting the metal floor at his feet. He didn't move away, but did genuinely flinch.

"If you lie to me", you spat "I'll know".

He seemed to chew his lip in thought, brow cocking.

"It was worth a shot".

You nodded, gritting your teeth.

"So I'll ask again: who are you?"

His thumb twitched and he let out a defeated sigh.

"Poe Dameron. Resistance pilot." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuuuun. I thought I'd leave this on a cliffhanger because this was getting insanely long, haha.  
> Don't worry, there are still plenty of chapters left. Clearly Kylo Ren has plenty of time to make up for being himself
> 
> Glossary:
> 
> Dopheld Mitaka: He's the Lieutenant who reports to Kylo about Rey having the map and he gets dragged along by his throat. Poor Dopheld. He never gets a break.
> 
> Mando'a: The language Mandalorians use. A pretty common language in the galaxy; very useful to learn.
> 
> Repulsorlift: It's the technology that makes things float in Star Wars. You know, floating beds, etc. Many vehicles use it as a means of propulsion, but it's got a habit of being unsafely used. Like in swoop bikes. Which are pretty much the least safe thing ever.
> 
> Yavin 4: An incredibly significant planet in the Empire Era. The star wars calendar uses "ABY"; After Battle of Yavin and BBY ; Before Battle of Yavin. So that should say something about how important it was as a thing.


	11. The Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Peace is a lie. There is only Passion.  
> Through Passion I gain Strength.  
> Through Strength I gain Power.  
> Through Power I gain Victory.  
> Through Victory my chains are Broken.  
> The Force shall free me."
> 
> \- Qotsisajak, The Code of the Sith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Violence, pain, nosebleeds. Lovely.
> 
> So this is a heavy chapter, but pfft. I've got to set the scene before I drop the big guns.   
> I promise you: payoff's in the next chapter. The next chapter will be when we get into the NSFW stuff. You are not prepared.

"So you want to tell me what you're doing here, Poe?"

Poe chewed his cheek, huffing a sigh. His hands still up in the air; callused fingers twitching.

"I'd imagine the same thing you're doing here".

You were getting less afraid and more pissed off as the engagement continued. You'd never actually _seen_ a member of the Resistance before. Sure, there were skirmishes in contested territory, but for the most part it was a Cold War situation. Hands on buttons, whispers of intel. No real face-to-face time. You wondered whether gunning down Poe the Pilot would be a diplomatic incident, or whether you'd be bumped for a second promotion. Either option seemed somewhat surreal.

Poe seemed to pick up on your hesitation; eyeing the space between his foot and his blaster with what was intended to be a subtle glance. But his face was too expressive; the Force around him echoing his willingness to do what it took to get out of here alive.

"If you're not going to shoot me", he swallowed, a sly smile pinching at the corner of his mouth "can I put my hands down? 'Cause I'm starting to lose feeling in my extremities over here."

Were you...were you going to shoot him? _Shit._ This had not been in the training vids. Even if you could put him out, stun him: what were you going to do? Bundle his unconscious body into a claustrophobic TIE-fighter? Over some mysterious door and a tip-off? That wasn't how you wanted this to go down.

You gestured to his blaster with a tip of your head; acutely aware of the sweat dripping at the arc of your nose.

"Kick it to me".

He looked at you as though he'd done this a hundred times before; no hesitation as his boot nudged the blaster. It skidded with a screech toward your foot; you slid your comms pad into your pocket, holstering your own blaster and firmly grasping his. It was much less fancy than your own; an assembling of junk parts and weird additions that made you think the Rebellion might be shit out of funding. His hands slowly lowered to his sides; his chest rising and falling with a slow breath.

"See? We're already bonding".

You squared your jaw, blinking away the rush of annoyance. Great. Thousands of rebels and you had happened upon the designated joker.

"If you try anything, _anything_ at all: you're dead. I'm not kidding."

His head tilted; examining you clinically. He smirked; biting down on his lip with a careless indignance, before giving a slow nod. 

You moved cautiously, weaving around him: eyes still trained on his form. He dressed like a smuggler; and you imagined there was a good reason for that. If you'd been any casual schmuck, you could have bought his weird story about smuggling or piracy or whatever the hell he was going to offer up to get you on his good side. As you passed him; you flicked a glance at the metal door.

It was smaller than you'd expected; covered in mud and dirt, obscuring the steel of the door. You approached it and gave it a casual rap: it was thick. Too thick to penetrate by blast. As you'd anticipated, giving it a knock made it vibrate slightly: and that was the mag seal. Excellent.

"You wanna tell me your name, doll?"

You instantly turned; gritting your teeth.

" _Captain._ Not doll. Not friend. _Captain_ ".

He gave a shit-eating grin, and you had a subtle and reoccurring urge to send him back to the Resistance in a coffin.

Turning your attention back to the door, you ran your hands across the metal. Tapping. Grating your nails across the surface. Looking for the access point.

"You know", Poe began "that thing can-"

But he was stunted into silence as the metal panel moved forward; revealing a hidden interface. The screen was covered in thick grime and dust; but as it moved around, it flickered to life. Numerals loaded up: but your eyes widened.

"That's..."

This door was _old_. Impossibly old. The programming language was jumbled Galactic Basic; but the load up was the sort you never saw nowadays. Ancient system, ancient and bygone. What the Force?

"What's behind this door?" you probed, turning to face Poe. He was looking at you with an expression that was, for once, unreadable: brow furrowed, nostrils flared. Was he afraid?

_"Don't open it"._

His voice was tainted by fear; his hands on his trousers.

"I'm telling you", he started, moving toward you slowly. Your fingers danced on your blaster, and his eyes dropped "I was sent here to blow that thing up. Alright? You do _not_ want to know what it is. And you do _not_ want that in the hands of the First Order. You can't even-"

You cut him off, turning back to the screen. He seemed to mutter a profanity; but you were enthralled. The text was flashing; white, bleeping. Words you could comprehend mixed with words that seemed to lose all translation in the screen. 

_Peace...is a...Passion? Victory?  Something about the Force. Broken chains. Freedom._

And then, as you tapped bypass; it automated, the doors screeching and clinking as the magnetic seal seemed to crack open for the first time in an era.

"Well; now we're screwed", Poe sighed, despair tinging his voice.

The doors were slow, splitting down the middle as they slid apart, a swirl of dust coughing out of the blackness. But you were paralyzed to move; to so much as breathe. 

You could _feel_ it. Feel the coldness. The darkness. Pain, suffering. Despair. Death. Power. A horrible gnawing, as though the entirety of the planet was screaming out in pain from an unseen wound. The door continued to open; the dark space illuminated only by the light filtering in from behind you. You were acutely aware of your mistake, of the unchecked darkness that held sway over this sealed tomb. As the doors clicked to a halt; your body swayed. You could see the darkness, contrasting with the shadow; voices rasping in the dark.

You gasped; but your breathing sounded wrong. It wasn't echoing in the way it should have: it were as though you were hearing yourself from the other side of a wall. You were transfixed on the darkness. You heard Poe say something urgent: but it was like a dream. A nightmare. Your feet were moving, and you could hear your heartbeat, but nothing else seemed right.

As you crossed the threshold: you made out unnatural lights. Red, white, orange. Torches without sconces: as though the very air held fire. The walls were solid stone: grey and thick. In the center of the room, a small pillar held a metal object. The pyramid was intricate, beautiful. Golden filigree over red stone. It moved as though with some haunted liquid, darkness radiating through it. And you couldn't stop yourself: your hands weren't your hands. Your fingers twitched, and as you stroked the pyramid; you heard yourself scream.

_"Hello again"._

_You looked up, across the tomb. In the light of the sconces, Nehan stood. His eyes held evidence of his youth; blonde hair still golden, windswept. He looked healthy. Happy. His eyes alight with the joy of your presence, as though he'd been waiting a great many years to see you. You couldn't believe your eyes; if you could feel your body, you would have cried out and moved to him. But you were locked in place, and nothing was right._

_"Nehan? But you're...you died. I shot you"._

_Your voice isn't...your voice. It's something else. You're afraid, but you can't place why. You don't remember how you got here._

_"We're together now. Here. Isn't that all that matters?"_

_Isn't it? Isn't that all that matters? Yes. That was all you had wanted._

_You heard sounds as though you were underwater: a voice, calling from far above you._

_"You seem sad", he smiled. His eyes were tinged with red; his jacket torn in strange places. Had he always looked this way? You weren't sure. But you didn't like it; not at all._

_"I...I don't know how I got here. I don't know where I am. Where's Tarna-Sul?"_

_Nehan's peaceful features seemed to shift, slightly. Lines on his face as his mouth dropped into a crease._

_"Why do you want to know? You have me. Am I not enough?"_

_You feel your hands shake, and it's the first sensation you've gotten back. Things start to distort; the lights in the tomb dimming._

_"Ben. Where's Ben?"_

_You had asked innocently; but Nehan looked furious. You were terrified, you realised: your heart was pounding, and you could taste blood in your mouth. His eyes were black; the whites of his eyes obscured by darkness._

_"Where's Ben?" he mocked, blood seeping from his mouth "where's Ben? You think he cares for you? He belongs to the Darkness; he is one with it. So close now to falling. You know this. He is ours. He is ours, and you-"_

Nehan screams, staggering backward. You look down; Poe's blaster is steaming in your palm. The pyramid is crumpled; it hisses, voices babbling in the darkness. Red liquid seeps out, burning at the once beautiful mechanisms. When you look up to fire a second time; Nehan is gone. The tomb is black as pitch; with nothing left inside. You reach up to your face; and there's blood seeping from your nose. Shit. How? What? What was any of that?

You reach out, fingers stroking at the red substance. It was now solid; crystaline. The pyramid had seemingly melted into a rock-hard mess of tangled metal and crimson rock. But from it, you felt nothing: no trace of the Darkness that had engulfed you just before. The tomb was nothing more than an empty husk. You gained some purchase on the pyramid, pulling it from its base with no effort, staggering toward the entrance.

"Alright", Poe began, panting heavily. His index finger pointed at you accusatorily; eyes wide "listen. I've seen some crazy shit in my life. But that...you just disappeared. And I heard voices. And a gunshot. Care to explain?"

You honestly didn't; but you held out the pyramid to him. He looked at it in shock, cautiously taking it from your hands.

"You can tell the Resistance they can keep their evil artifacts next time."

Poe eyed the contraption with suspicion, his mouth agape.

"I...you destroyed it. Why?"

You swallowed, wiping your nose on the back of your sleeve. Blood smeared across your light-grey uniform, and you choked back a hysterical laugh. Your memories were fuzzy; your head ached. You were not looking forward to piloting your TIE back to The Finalizer, even if it was a safe haven.

"Isn't that what you wanted? To destroy it?" you asked, swallowing the metal taste of blood.

He nodded slowly, his eyes on the tomb you'd just come from. He was blatantly terrified.

"But you. The First Order. They've been searching for them. Why?"

That didn't sound right. Hux had said the tipoff had come from the Resistance trying to claim the artifact. Of course; Hux was a keen mastermind. A liar, no doubt. But what the hell did he want with Sith artifacts? Or worse - what the 'Supreme Leader' want with something so...malevolent? So cruel? Is that what you were working towards? Unleashing that sort of horror, that sort of pain? You couldn't think. Your head was blasting, the backs of your eyes aching in protest.

"I don't know. And if I did; I wouldn't be telling you anyway".

Poe looked a little put out, but he shrugged. You were under the impression the likelihood of him shooting you had gone drastically down, so you offered him his blaster back with a stern look. He took it, eyeing it with blatant suspicion; but he seemed pleased. You weren't sure you'd be able to stop him if he'd really wanted to put a bullet in you; but your estimations seemed to be reasonable. He slid the blaster into his holster, his hand still dancing at the buckle. You were still, after all, enemies. Your hyponitzed stunt hadn't changed a thing about that.

"I hope we don't meet again, Poe", you scoffed. With a brief nod - and never removing your gaze from his face - you backed around the corner towards the exit.

"The feelings mutual, by the way!" Poe called down the cold hallway of the bunker after you. You wanted to get back to the Finalizer as fast as possible and forget this ever happened. Somehow, though: you had a sneaking suspicion that this whole event was going to come back to bite you. In one way or another; it always comes back around. That much you knew for sure.

* * *

 

 

Your hands trembled as you entered the Bridge; your mind an absolute mess. You were freezing cold; goosebumps pricked on your arms as you weaved your way to General Hux's uptight form; his hands stereotypically clasped at his back. You weren't sure what the Force was wrong with you: but you kept feeling like you were being watched. Which wasn't wrong: I mean, you were walking onto the Bridge, through a sea of faces. But something was _wrong_. The Force was _wrong_. You had no idea what was happening, but you'd spent the flight back to the Finalizer choking back feelings of nausea and confusion.

"Captain. You've returned".

General Hux sounded sour as ever; beady eyes analysing your lack of cargo. He squinted slightly, lip curling. Already prepared to chastise you.

"The tip off was a dud, sir. I got the mag seal open, but there was nothing to find. Just some...dusty ruins".

Hux snorted; the sound dry and prickly. You weren't sure if he was buying your pathetic attempt to lie, but your head was spinning. Whatever. This day couldn't get any worse.

"You look _terrible_ ", Hux announced; almost as though he was unable to help himself. His eyes scanned you as though you were disgusting; diseased. 

"Flight sickness, sir. It's going 'round".

He nodded, lip curled in annoyance. 

"You're dismissed, Captain. Get some sleep."

Oh Force. Yes. You'd done it. And sleep? Sleep sounded amazing. You weren't sure whether you were about to vomit, get a second nose bleed or pass out. As you shakily stumbled out of the Bridge; you felt your nose running. You went to wipe it; and shit. More blood. You were losing more blood. What was happening here?

A hand on your back pushed you forward, grip firm on your waist.

"You need to move", Kylo Ren's voice lowly growled. You looked up; his masked face hinting at nothing. But what grabbed you was you couldn't feel his presence; no hum as he snaked his arm around your waist.

"Not this again", you replied weakly. You could taste blood and bile; and you pushed your palm up to your nose, trying to clear the nosebleed. It wasn't working; and you swayed unsteadily. 

He practically pulled you along by virtue of his arm around your waist. You were almost a ragdoll; your mind a vague symphony of bizarre and confusing thoughts. Weren't you...wasn't there some sort of pyramid-thing? And Nehan was there? Force; you had no idea. You stumbled, and his arm caught you; still pushing you onward, willing you forward. Forcing you to move faster, faster than you wanted to move.

"I think something's wrong".

Your voice was slurred; pitchy and strange.

"I know."

He...knew? Oh. I mean, you had a nosebleed. And Hux had said you looked pretty awful. So...that made sense. You think. Thought? You had the thought. Fuck, things were getting pretty crazy.

After some time of stumbling along, grasping your nose and shaking like a leaf: Kylo Ren pushed you through a doorway. The room was instantly chillier than the Bridge had been, and you started to feel pretty woozy. It was dark, but you could place most of what you were seeing: a really, really fancy bedroom. Huge window at the back, illuminated in starlight. A bed bigger than any you'd ever seen. All clinically well-kept and colourless. Was this some sort of hallucination? Were you really that screwed?

When you focused, you saw Kylo Ren's face: now maskless. You had no idea when he'd taken off the mask, but time wasn't going right. His eyes looked absolutely stricken with panic; that fear you'd felt when your minds had met those weeks ago now manifest. His full lips were parted as he studied your face closely; as though he was trying to find out what the hell was going on. You could feel his breath on your face, and it made your spine curl.

"What did you do?"

His voice sounded as panicked as his face looked; he slipped off his gloves, throwing them onto the bed. Your legs shook; the world spinning violently as though you were being turned at an angle. You felt his bare hand on your back, guiding you to the edge of the bed. You sat; but you were overcome with shakes. Your eyes kept moving around, but your sense of balance was everywhere. He knelt on the floor in front of you; his eyes still locked to yours. Searching. Waiting.

"There was", you swallowed, feeling as though you might pass out at any moment. His hands clamped to your shoulders, trying to keep you steady.

"There was a...pyramid. A thing. I don't know. I don't know what I did. I don't remember".

His lip trembled, his eyes looking absolutely wounded. The fear in his eyes made him look so much younger, so much paler. A ghost against the black backdrop.

"Listen", he breathed, trying to stifle the panic in his voice "you need to keep looking at me. Keep your eyes on mine. Don't look away".

You briefly nodded; but the room catapulted sideways. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, trying to gain some semblance of control.

"Hey!" he cried out, and it was the most emotion-filled statement you'd ever heard from him. His hands snaked up to either side of your jaw; and you were grateful he was holding you still. Everything felt as though it had a heartbeat; your skull a mush of vibration.

But right as you felt as though you might otherwise pass out: everything lurched forward. 

_The room was huge; bigger than any you'd seen in an age. Red ceiling sloping into a dome as it curved up and out of your vision; supported by metal beams. As you moved forward, you made out shapes. Humanoid, but utterly devoid of emotion. Crimson-cloaked, faceless. Masked. The platform spilled out, and in the center, steps rose toward a towering throne. And on it-_

You fell forward; your mind grasping at reality with incredible force. You had expected to be held in place by Kylo Ren's hands; but he was on the floor, his palms pressed to his face. You had no idea what had just happened, but gasped for air, falling to your hands and knees on the metal surface next to him. You could feel his agony, feel his presence with acute ferocity. It was relieving, and it was horrifying.

You heard the panel on the wall screech and beep; the lights flickering as though the power was fluctuating. 

"Ben?!"

He cried out, pain evident in his movements. You could feel him gaining control; feel it subsiding. But the Darkness was so strong around him: stronger than you'd ever felt it. Slowly, he began to breathe less rapidly; the lights returning to their dim glow.

 _"Shit",_ he gasped. He moved his hands from his face, and _Force_. He looked as though he might be dying. He was devastatingly pale; the dark circles under his eyes shining. Positively gaunt; as though he would have collapsed if he weren't already sprawled on the floor. You had no idea what had just happened, but it wasn't good. It wasn't good at all.

"Are you", you swallowed, chest heaving as you reached out for him "are you alright?". Your fingers brushed his; and you realised that might have been the first time your hands had touched. You wished it was under better circumstances. His brown eyes were impossibly dark; gold flecks hidden in the dim light.

He made a sound; close to a whimper. His fingers twitched; trying to guide yours closer to him, to get some comfort. You were both exhausted, bewildered, afraid. But alive. But okay.

"What happened to me? How did you do that?"

You weren't sure whether he'd have the strength to answer your questions; but he wetted his lips, blinking slowly.

"I felt it. When you touched the holocron. I felt it", he breathed. But his next words came as a broken whisper, filled with the utmost fear. 

 _"And he did, too"_.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy so that was a fun one to write. I actually really enjoy writing darker, more intense scenes. But I wanted to strike an appropriate balance between plot development and character development in this chapter: I hope I succeeded!
> 
> Glossary:
> 
> Holocron: The Jedi and Sith used these little objects to contain information and teachings. The Sith Holocrons tended to be pyramid shaped, and very powerful. Ezra gets exposure to one in Rebels and it's real bad for everyone involved. They are very corruptive and dangerous; hence the reader getting some of that good ol' corruption from having destroyed one.
> 
> Telepathy: I've talked about telepathy being used to read minds, but there's also canonical use for it being able to be used to like...absorb darkness. It's mostly explored in Legends, so I've taken some creative license, but Jedi always talk of energy transfer; and they can use that transfer to heal wounds and cleanse the spirit. But the energy involved for someone like Ben to do that; it's a big deal. I think. Dun dun duuuun.


	12. The Hanged Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo Ren meets with the Supreme Leader. He also has no self-control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARN: Don't read this chapter in a business meeting or work function or at your nana's house, because you may try to jack off in front of unsuspecting humans. Unless you're really into that. NSFW warning! (YEEEHAAWWW).

"I  _feel_ the Darkness in your spirit, burning in your soul. Ah, yes. You are finally learning".

Kylo Ren's knee shifted on the ground, Snoke's words reverberating in the cold air. He dared not look up, even with his mask flush against his skin. Even with his cowl affixed heavily around his neck. Even protected by all this material, all of these parsecs. He dared not look into the eyes of his Supreme Leader, even through a hologram; lest he buckle, his mind spilling forward information he had resolved not to give.

"I have found solace in your training, Supreme Leader. In my own power".

Snoke seemed to approve of that answer; and Kylo Ren felt his chest relax slightly. He held his emotions closely, guarding them. Willing himself to press on, to end this summons and leave this decrepit room.

"You felt this murmur, I presume. At the corners of the galaxy; where the Resistance run and hide like rats in a maze. A holocron; touched by one who senses the Force. A dangerous prospect, _even for you_ ".

He felt himself stiffen at Snoke's words reverberating through him, cursing silently at the way his body reacted. He tried to remain calm as he felt the prodding of his master at his mind; climbing through the dark shadows at the corner of Kylo Ren's subconscious. His toes curled under his boots; conjuring forth hate and anger. Memories of his father, of Luke and the Academy and everything, everything he could think of. Anything that had ever made rage curl at his heart. 

Anything that made it impossible for Snoke to see his conflict in any clarity.

"I assure you: I will kill every last one of them. They will die by my hand; or be crushed in the coming storm. If the Resistance harbors any Force Sensitives; I will _break_ them."

He spat the word ' _break_ ' through his vocoder, ensuring his breath hitched on all the right syllables. It was easy for him; easier than he wished it had been. Easier than it used to be to channel that sort of hate into his speech. Oh, how he had descended.

"And what if _we_ harbor them?" Snoke asked, his voice slick with a calm confidence. _Good_.

Kylo Ren looked up; taking in the huge hologram. Twenty times bigger than his own form; face gnarled and crooked like a worn oak. Kylo Ren licked at his lips, his next words hissed through his vocoder with all the rage in his heart:

" _They will die_ ".

* * *

 

Kylo Ren's heart ached as he made his way through the corridors of the Finalizer, sweat beading at his forehead under the dark of his mask. It had been one of the longest days in some time; and he was still filled with an urgent sense of restlessness. Despite the small victory of knowing that you were both safe for now: he was in a tumultuous mess. He had tried to take the Darkness from you, and he had succeeded. But it was a fickle thing; that victory. What clung to you in powerful sickness created in him a sickening strength.

He'd rather face that a hundred times over than see you bleeding on his bed, though. A thousand times.

Approaching your door, he let go of a breath he didn't know he was holding. It rasped through his vocoder, giving him a little shock. He was...too tense. Too on edge. Needed to control himself. Channeling the Force, he pushed the lock on the door, and it snapped open. And he was not - he could not ever be - prepared for the scene he walked in on.

"...I just think he's not that into me, you know?". An officer sat on your bed; her legs dangling at the floor. By the uniform, he presumed she was a Lieutenant. And by the way her thoughts were a jumble of  _Adrian_ and  _disappointed;_ he presumed she was one of Hux's lackeys that he often accidentally caught thoughts from. Her head snapped up when she saw him; brown eyes suddenly wide with shock.

"What does he k..." you froze, your hands flush against your sides.

 _Fuck._ You looked...Force above, he couldn't breathe. Why couldn't he breathe? It was ridiculous.

You were wearing nothing but a towel; standard issue, off-white and uncomfortable as death itself. It wrapped around your torso, pulling inward in enough places that his head started spinning. Your hair dripping wet, tossed over your shoulder, dripping hot trails across your collarbone. Your cheeks pooled with heat, and he'd never wanted more to-

"Uh, good evening, Commander! Sir!".

The Lieutenant shot up; pressing her hands to her sides in the most standard salute. It would have aggravated him, usually. Would have made him feel pandered to. But he wasn't thinking about anything but the way your thigh curved dangerously to meet the hem of the towel. Force, he was _painfully_ hard; nothing sitting right below his waist. He swallowed, hard; trying to think of something, anything to distract himself.

When his mind stopped wandering quite so acutely, he realised all three of you had been standing perfectly still, unmoving. Him in the doorway; this Lieutenant waiting to be barked at, and you, holding your towel and glaring at him as though he were about to scold you. He just might yet. If he could will his mouth to move.

"Kath...can you...I need to deliver a report to the Commander".

Kylo Ren said nothing; hoping his presence would convey enough of a message. This officer looked from you to him: her eyes widening. Cogs turning. He hated that. But very luckily, Kath squeaked an agreement and dodged around him with nothing more than a curious glare and some scrambled thoughts about _bets_ and _mysterious strangers._ The moment she cleared the doorway; you folded your arms across your chest.

"You have no conception of polite entry, do you?"

Oh. The tone of your voice sent ripples through his stomach; lightning in his blood. He felt his dick throb, twitching in his pants. Force; what were you doing to him?

"You..." he shuddered, "Force, you don't know what you're doing to me".

You rolled the ends of your hair in your fingers, chuckling darkly as you took a step toward him.

"Oh, I do", you chuckled, tapping your forehead softly.

 _Oh_. This again. He always failed to remember; but this time, he felt no fear of rejection. None of that apprehension. Only wanting; only that throbbing in his veins as you eyed him with that exquisite gaze. He could feel it in The Force, radiating off of you: your need was as acute as his. But he also sensed tiredness, aching joints and stinging eyes. And so he paused himself, there and then. No, not tonight; but there would be other nights. Other moments to make you his.

"The Supreme Leader...I spoke with him. He suspects little". Kylo Ren's voice was flat; restrained. He could hear it buzzing through his vocoder, hoping he could convey more confidence than he felt. You were safe. He was safe. You sighed, your eyelids fluttering. Relief rippled through The Force to him, and it was like a beautiful breath of air.

"That's...I'm relieved. I truly am".

Kylo Ren chewed at the inside of his cheek; wondering whether he had the audacity. Did he? Fuck it.

"I would prefer that you...stayed in my quarters. From tomorrow. My presence will make it harder to detect your...sensitivity. The Supreme Leader will struggle to sense your presence at my side. At least until this has passed from his mind".

The words seemed strange, leaving his mouth like that. With such a cautious optimism. Of course, everything he said was _true_ : but his motivations weren't completely pure, his conscience not completely stoic. He wanted his mouth against your skin, your gaze locked on his, your shampoo on his sheets. He wanted more than wanting; more than he'd ever wanted anything. He wasn't sure if that was allowed, but...

"I would like that, Ben. Very much".

He couldn't suppress the smile, the glowing smile. Radiating across his features. He knew you couldn't see his face, but he...he knew his joy was permeating through your mind. Splashing into the space between you with a careless wonder. He'd never dreamed of this. Never dreamed that he might get the chance to hold you, press you against his chest, until the morning called you both back to reality.

He nodded, biting his lip.

"I'll send someone to collect your things tomorrow."

You smiled, taking several steps forward. He could feel that comforting hum, that desperate need. Force, he was being pulled under by it; but by something else, too. Something far beyond his comprehension. Impossibly bright and comforting and...Light. Endless Light. Dancing at his vision like the rising of the dawn. You carefully leaned in, placing a peck against his mask.

He shuddered; leaning in to rest his forehead on yours. Through his visor, he saw nothing but the bright glow of your eyes; alight with that same fire. And it was all so new and beautiful and terrifying, and just what he'd always wanted.

* * *

 

 

Turning the tap on the shower; hot water spurted from above, dousing his dark waves in warmth. He reserved showering of an evening for special occasions, or for days that seemed to stretch endlessly. Today had been both of those things; and he was relieved to be back in his cabin, blinking away droplets that landed on his thick lashes. He leaned back, letting the water rinse across his full lips: it tasted chalky as it weaved across his mouth, streaking across his tongue.

_You were wearing nothing but a towel; standard issue, off-white and uncomfortable as death itself. It wrapped around your torso, pulling inward in enough places that his head started spinning. Your hair dripping wet, tossed over your shoulder-_

He groaned, running his hands across his face. It had been an hour since he had returned to his quarters, but the image wouldn't leave him. Taunting him; burning his veins. He looked down, and as he expected: his cock twitched in apprehension. He wondered how long it had been since he'd...indulged it. How much time had passed. He suppressed it to the best of his ability; not out of distaste for the act, but out of habit. Jedi were discouraged from passionate acts, and the mantra was hard to shake. As it was: the last time Kylo Ren had let his hands wander, he had shorted out the power in his room for a good half hour.

His mind, it seemed, was as hard to control in the tryst of passion as it was in his angry fits.

But now; now he felt as though he might burn up anyway. Not indulging himself would be...entirely painful. He was already dangerously hard; and he wondered whether the simple effort of trying to pull his pants on after his shower might just be to unbearably good. Wondered whether the simple way the hem would brush against the throbbing head would just stop his breath.

He blew air from his lip, his hands wandering down his body cautiously. He stroked the inside of his thigh, testing the water. It felt good; better still if he imagined they were your hands, your nails dancing at the fragile skin. He nipped at the inside of his cheek; dark eyes looking for a reason to not do this. In the end: there were none convincing enough. He experimentally slid his palm up to the tip, rubbing the ball of his hand against the surface.

"Oh, _Fuck_ " . The words came out as a hiss; his left hand pushing out to make contact with the glass wall to steady himself. Force, this was absolute bliss. Water dripped down the back of his neck; his shoulders hunched over as he slowly pumped, hand slick with shower water and precum already. This was...fuck. Fuck. His breath hitched in his throat, his hand shaking against the glass of the shower.

In his mind; it wasn't his hand. It was yours; your eyes on his, luring him in with that familiar hum. That towel on the floor as you rubbed it in your fingers, taking in every sensation of it. His mind rang out with your words as he moaned, phrases like "I'm all yours" and "oh, I do" rising in a symphony from your lips. Force, he couldn't...he'd never felt this kind of pleasure. His lips parted, teeth biting together and nearly nipping at his tongue.

His lips spilled your name, between the moans and sighs. He surprised himself when it escaped his tongue so willingly; but the moment he said it, he felt his cock pulse in his hand, urgency evident. No, he didn't want to give in yet. He didn't want this to stop; didn't want to let go of this ache for your body, your spirit, your mouth. He slowed his pumps; but that wasn't stopping the rising feelings of desire hitching in his throat.

"Shit. Fuck. Oh, fucking fuck". The string of expletives left his mouth dry; aching for your tongue to fill the void rather than just empty words. God, he just wanted to know what you felt like around him; your hands in his hair, pulling at the dark waves. He was enchanted, intoxicated. The idea of your body; wet and soft around his cock. It was driving him to insanity. He felt like he might otherwise burst; a sudden feeling that he'd pushed himself too far with that last thought, too close to the edge.

He gripped tighter, pumping harder. His teeth bit down on his lip to stifle an incredibly loud moan of pleasure; the friction too much, too good. The lights in the bathroom flickered; datapad flickering, showerhead spurting in fluctuating pressure. But none of that even permeated his consciousness as he gave in; his cock pumping, spurting as it milked him everything he had. Force, he'd never...never cum that hard. His head span; his heart racing as his legs trembled in the now dark bathroom.

But _fuck_. That had been...

 _Force_ , he couldn't be more _pained_ to see you tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna write this chapter yesterday but life got in the way. Honours Degree is killing me. I'm deceased.
> 
> NO GLOSSARY BECAUSE ITS JUST MASTURBATING KYLO FUCK YEAH


	13. The Empress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, you've just got to bite the bullet and be honest. Even if it's confronting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character development!

_Your back ached as you blinked away the sleep in your eyes. Fluorescent lighting made your head spin; stark in contrast from the dingy lowlight of the transport shuttle. The ride from the Rim had been bumpy to say the least; but you were glad to be on solid ground, for what it was worth. Even if solid ground was a million tonnes of metal, careening through space._

_As you stumbled forward, backpack thrown over your shoulder; you thudded into a warm wall of uniform in the middle of the hangar._

_"Shit! Sorry, I'm sorry! I'm looking for Intake and I'm all..." the girl paused, tipping her hand and baring her teeth. She was petite; brown curls cut short in a regulation-savvy way. Her eyes were wide; pupils dilated with the same undercurrent of apprehension that hitched in your chest. Her uniform was emblazoned with the cadet badge: K. Resthenak. Navy._

_You shook your head, chuckling._

_"Yeah, well they could work on their signage. The Captain went into detail about where drop off was about a hundred times, and I'm already lost"._

_The girl smiled, wiping her hand against her trousers and offering it up in front of you. You took it, and the handshake was incredibly firm and enthusiastic. Huh. She was way stronger than she looked._

_"I'm Kath. Weapons Programming. Fresh out of the Academy"._

_Weapons Programming? Shit. Kath suddenly morphed from a clumsy, confused cadet into a burly braniac in two words. Don't judge a book, so it seemed. You both swung a look over your shoulder as you felt hot air from the deceleration of a nearby shuttle; more cadets waiting to exit into the hangar. The whole experience was daunting; even for you. Republic intake had been a little less...sudden._

_You coughed your name, and Kath raised a brow._

_"Is that Corellian? It's a pretty name"._

_"Gatalentan. My mother was Corellian, though. And I'm on Hyperspace Communications"._

_Kath clucked her tongue, raising her brows._

_"Very posh. Well, we may as well try to figure out our way around this hunk of metal together. Better that than wandering around aimlessly 'til the start of my shift"._

* * *

 

The cool glass fogged as your breath clouded the window, arms folded tightly against your chest. Troopers took swings at one another below; white, plastic armor flashing in the bright light. Being promoted to Captain had come with some privileges; one of which being your responsibility to oversee training of Storm Troopers on rotation. Captain Phasma stood a way from you, watching the exercises below with undiminishing intensity. She'd been here...what, five hours? And since you'd gotten in she hadn't so much as moved a muscle. The woman was a bastion of discipline next to your otherwise antsy stance.

"Zero-Zero is quick on the uptake. Excellent parry", you sighed. At least that sounded informed enough. You were hoping the last few months of melee training you'd been putting hadn't just been for nothing. Or at the very least, hoping you could regurgitate something Ben had critiqued you on.

 _Ben._ Force, the name flooded you with warmth, with giddiness. You couldn't remember the last time you'd felt so...what was this? You weren't quite sure you had words to articulate it. A drunk, fizzy, bubbly feeling radiating out from your stomach. Such a ridiculous, teenage thing. Somehow, it was made all the more beautifully treacherous that _you_ were the only person he trusted with his birth name. 

You. A soldier, an orphan, a broken thing. Born to nothing but empty legacies. And somehow, you held a fraction of his heart. Such an intricate, frail thing. And tonight; tonight you'd be staying in his quarters. And that was everything.

"This division are impeccably trained, ma'am. Finer Troopers, the First Order has yet to know".

Phasma's voice carried through the room; strangely modulated through her mask. You often wondered who she was, beneath that chrome helmet. You also wondered how the hell she kept that armour so insanely shiny, because _damn_. Never a single smudge against the chrome plating. What sort of upkeep did that require? Too much, probably.

You nodded, fingers tapping against your datapad as you logged times. You noticed the interface had been updated, and Force were you glad of it. The constant log in, log out had been pissing off the whole crew. An outfit this luxurious couldn't afford to just...remember passcodes? You'd seen buildings on Coruscant that had genetic scanners for entry, for Force's sake. It was embarrassing.

"I'm logging out for lunch. Need anything while I'm gone, Captain?"

Phasma shook her head, otherwise indicating little interest.

"I should be fine, ma'am. The offer is greatly appreciated".

You had to admit, being called ma'am was...well, it was going to your head a little. You weren't quite sure whether it was neccesary, though. She was a senior officer, and you were a newly promoted naval captain. It all seemed rather formal; but you wondered if it was a part of the training. Mandatory-formality-training? You had noticed there was a level of expected decorum with Troopers and addressing officers, but she took it to a whole other level.

With a polite nod, you scurried to the door, eager to do something, anything that wasn't standing perfectly still watching sparring. Exiting into the corridor, you weaved through the deck; pausing to exchange polite greetings to H'Seth on his way up to the Bridge. He never said much; but he seemed nice enough. An excellent navigator, or so you'd heard. You rounded the corner, hands clasped at your sides, and a smile tugged at your features as you noticed Kath standing by the door to the recreation room. Her head was down; curls dusting at her chin as she eyed her communications pad with renewing interest. Her mouth was a taught line; lips pressed together with some severity.

"Looking very serious, Kath. Very 'First Order'".

Her eyes drifted up; her face stony and cold. The familiar laughter in her expression was gone; replaced with something else. Something you didn't like at all.

"I need to talk to you", she muttered. Her boot clicked on the floor as she turned on heel, entering the room and motioning for you to follow. A sigh escaped your lips, and you pressed on through the threshold. The rec room was dead; no other soul in sight. Kath leaned back against one of the counters; her hand on the black surface, bracing herself against the cool marble. You felt sweat beading at the collar of your uniform; and something about this interaction made you feel very, very small.

"Kath...what's going on?"

She bit her lip, closing her eyes briefly.

"Commander Ren. He's the tall, dark suitor. Isn't he?"

The way the words escaped her mouth made you audibly stumble over your breathing. The Force was strange around her; you could feel concern, anger, fear. A cocktail of emotion, passing through the silence that enveloped you both. And to what end? You had assumed she knew. Or at the very least, you had assumed she had assumed the proximity between you and the infamous Kylo Ren was deeper than a colleague scenario. That was the funny thing, about this sort of arrangement; unspoken words and understandings have a sort of magic about them. The moment someone, anyone attempted to manifest it into reality: the picture started falling away, little by little.

"Kath...listen, I-"

"Let's cut the bullshit, alright? You're my best friend on this ship. So tell me the truth, straight up."

Best friend. That added a little lightness to your heart, and you leaned back against the cold metal wall. It soothed the heat simmering in your chest; threatening to make you turn and run. Your hand moved up to play at your hair; a nervous habit. 

"He...Yes. He sent me the note. And we...I don't know what we are. Or what we're doing. The last few months have been insane. I don't even know where to start, or how to explain what this is. I only know that he makes me better, somehow. I'm stronger for him being in my life".

The words escaped you as a babble, a stream of consciousness that poured forth with unrestrained energy. Kath seemed contemplative, her nails tapping against the countertop with audible clicks.

"You're going to get yourself killed". Her voice was quiet, shaky. Anxious. She couldn't seem to bring herself to look at you; and that wasn't the Kath you knew.

"We're soldiers. We don't have the-"

"-No! Don't you do that to me!" she cried out, throwing her weight forward onto the counter. "Don't you make out like you're just some...some other soldier here to put your life on the line for the cause! That isn't fair on me. It's not fair on you. Neither of us got into this out of any loyalty to the Order mantra, or the bullshit they feed you at Induction about 'restoring civility to the Republic' and what. We're survivors, you and I. And you're risking your life for what? A man who's got such a reputation for being an evil bastard that General Hux is afraid of him? Is that your idea of romance? Whisked away by a man who tortures and murders to get his kicks? He straight up would've let you die that day the bomb went off! And now, you...you..."

Your mind whirled, and you felt positively ill. Her words were a kick in the gut; and you felt your face drop. You didn't even know where to start.

"He's not like that, Kath. I know that sounds ridiculous, and it sounds ridiculous even to me. I'm not saying he hasn't done some... _awful_ things. But you should see how they keep him up at night. He's not the monster we all think he is; not even a little. He's so scared, all the time. He wants out of this more than anyone. And I _have_ to believe there's a chance for him to be better", you swallowed, biting back the threat of tears "because if there's a chance for him, maybe there's a chance for all of us. For me."

Kath was quiet for a moment; taking in your words slowly. Processing the conversation. Holding it in her mind. She swallowed, hard. Her eyes met yours as she moved around the counter; her fingers brushing at the marble.

"I know you think this is worth it right now", she started "but Hux is angling for a reason to get back at the Commander. He's an evil shit. He'll take whatever chance he can, whatever route to the end game. If I know about this; Hux knows. And if what you're saying is true - you're the perfect route to that end game. He's waiting for his chance. He's patient. And above that: there's someone worse than Hux out there. And if _that man_ finds out...I can't even imagine the sort of horror you'd be faced with. I can't even think about it."

The Supreme Leader. The man that made Kylo Ren's heart ice-cold, made this entire fleet cower in fear. You had seen the utter terror in Kylo Ren's eyes as he'd realised your presence had been sensed: seen the way he shook and whimpered like a kicked dog. You had no doubt that Kath was right; no doubt at all. It might have been the only thing you were certain of, right now.

You nodded, your lip trembling.

"I'm going to be careful, Kath. I will. But I can't walk away from this: not yet. I need to see this through. To whatever end".

"To whatever end", she scoffed "seems rather finite, no?"

"Isn't it always?"

She chuckled a little at that. A sad smile wound up through her features; the beginning of re-igniting the fire that always seemed to burn within her. 

"So" she sniffed "I guess we all owe Adrian a fair few credits. Can't say I'm not totally shocked, by the way. Just how stunning is this prick?"

Ah; that was the Kath you knew and loved. You shuffled against the wall; suddenly feeling blood pooling at your cheeks. Your eyes dropped to your feet; staring intently at the scuff on your boot. You hummed in acknowledgement.

"Very".

Kath whistled comically.

"And have you..."

You looked up, cocking your brow. She made a gesture with your hands that you immediately recognized.

"Force, Kath. Get your head out of the gutter".

"Hey, look. You're the one who insists on risking life and limb for the guy. I think I'm owed a few concessions in this Q&A".

You chuckled. Damn, she had you there.

"No, no we haven't-" you trailed off, moving to copy her hand movements. She chortled loudly; cupping her hand to her face in an attempt to stifle hysterics.

"But have you macked on Commander Sexyface? Like, how does that...does he keep the mask on when you're making out? I bet he does".

"Oh, my god. You are the worst."

Kath shrugged, rolling her eyes as a smile played at her lips. You couldn't remember the last time you'd had a friend so willing to let you know she cared. It filled you with warmth, with gratitude. And despite the hum of fear that pinched at the corners of your mind regarding her words, you knew you were right. Some things were worth the risk. Some desires rooted too deeply to deny them outright.

* * *

 

_"Dad?"_

_Your father turned in his chair; wires sparking in his hands. He had been trying to fix the old service droid for days now, and you had grown bored of waiting to have your metal companion back. So you had taken to asking a thousand and one questions: each of which your father answered with diligence. You didn't realise at that age what an effort this must have been: a curious eight-year old, wanting to know the answers to questions much bigger than herself. His brows knitted together as he tried moving one of the bolts; it grinded unceremoniously, the sound distracting him for a brief moment._

_"What is it, sweetheart? Daddy's trying to fix Tie-Tie"._

_Tie-Tie. You had named the little droid when you were just a toddler; and not a very creative one. The little whirs and beeps he made sounded a lot like he was saying "Tie! Tie!" and you had stuck onto that, somehow._

_You paused, chubby hands reaching for a nearby bolt to play with._

_"How did you know you loved Mummy, Dad? You met her and she was with the bad people. Weren't you scared?"_

_Your father stopped what he was doing, then. His eyes became distant, and he plopped the broken droid down onto the table with a clunk. He sighed; and you looked up, curious eyes waiting for an answer that you assumed was simple._

_"Your Mum was very strong. When she was little, she had to take care of herself. And then she got to join the Empire, and she was very, very poor. She didn't have any money at all, and so she had to join. And she was very good at it. Everyone used to tell me she was the best pilot they'd ever seen"._

_Your eyes lit up, scooting closer to your father as he recounted the story._

_"There was a big battle on a planet far away from here. I was working to help the Republic, and I was bringing their soldiers supplies. It was a very cold planet, and it snowed all the time. But one day, the snow was so deep that I got lost. It was cold and dark, and I thought I was going to get hurt. But your mother; she found me in the snow. And she could have hurt me, but she didn't. She took me to her ship and gave me food and water. And after that, when I left to go back to my people, I think I left a piece of my heart with her, so that when we saw each other a few years later: we found our way back together again"._

_You didn't understand. How could you? A child of eight, even one so intelligent as you. You didn't know what it meant to fall in love. You didn't understand words like treason and rebellion. This was years before you'd been forced to stand on your own. Years before you'd truly tasted loss, desire, hardship. In this moment, it was only a story; something adults played at to pass the time._

_"Sometimes, you don't get to pick who you fall in love with. You don't get to choose. I could have fallen in love with somebody on the same team as me, or I could have fallen in love with somebody I was friends with. Maybe that would have been easier. But I didn't: I fell in love with your mum. And once I had fallen in love with her: I didn't want anything else. Everybody said I was crazy, because she was fighting for the other team. They told me to forget about her. But when you care about someone that much, you see through them. You see things other people don't see. It makes you stronger and better; even if it doesn't go right. Love doesn't make you stop being afraid: love makes you learn it's okay to be afraid"._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been so terrible at updating this over the last week or so. I'm sorry! Uni has been crazy. Pls forgiverino me.  
> Next chapter is steamier, I promise!
> 
> Glossary:
> 
> Corellia: Han Solo's home planet! Breeds crack pilots and excellent starships.
> 
> Zero-Zero: A squadmate of Finn's. He's supposedly very good at Trooper-ing


	14. The Lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite everything, you've got Ben right where you want him: on his bed, stark-naked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've made it this far in, this chapter is dedicated to you. 37,000 words of slow burn brought us here. The big guns. Let's hope I still remember how to write shameless porn.
> 
> Even Jesus can't save you from what you're about to read. Nobody can. Sin City now boarding.

Despite everything: your knees were practically knocking together in terror as you tapped the communications pad outside Kylo Ren's - no, wait - _your_ new quarters. Perhaps it was just the stress of the last few days dawning on you in one huge ball at the pit of your stomach, or perhaps it was the significance of this whole...thing. Of sleeping next to him. Of kissing him.

Of what he wanted to do to you.

And shit, the thought had you weak at the ankles, wetness already pooling in your underwear. His thoughts had gotten more and more specific as the days went on, and you had to say you were both in agreement: if you had to wait another day for that padded armor to come off, you were going to lose your mind. Ever since that sparring session when he'd pressed up to you, you'd been positively _aching_.

The door clicked open, and on the other side: the man in question, jaw tight. His face still held that tiredness, but it was dominated by what seemed like an uncharacteristic blush, dusting at the freckles smattered along his cheekbones. Force, you would _never_ recover from how devastatingly handsome he was. Dark waves, pale features. That black trailing cloak that lingered on his shoulders. A dark Prince; running to your rescue.

He dropped his eyes at that; a strange hum in your periphery. Was it...shame? Embarrassment? You couldn't quite tell. Some sort of negative emotion, grasping at his stomach like knives. But as soon as it crossed his features, it seemed to pass: his jaw working as his eyes returned to you, pupils dilating with some unspoken hunger. Bidding you to enter. You threw a glance over your shoulder before stepping through the threshold, taking in the scene.

Oh. His quarters were so much less clinical than you had believed when you'd been here yesterday. No doubt that they were clean; but you noted a stack of books piled on the nightstand, a glass of water next to them. An old calligraphy set. A painting on the wall: a green forest giving way to a clear blue lake. Metal parts neatly arranged on the desk, as though he'd been building some contraption. And of course; your small collection of items from your room, now in a box against the bed. There was something so alive about the scene; something that made it real for you. Made him real. Gave him dimensions you'd always known were there: creativity, curiosity, intellect, passion. Perhaps, if circumstances had been different: he would've been a scholar, or a teacher.

"Never much had the patience, though".

His voice cut your thought off as he chewed his cheek, eyes following yours as you had taken in the scene. You'd zoned out; a personal habit lately. Everything was new and different and exciting. It needed savoring.

"You're being very patient right now", you teased. Because Force, you could _feel_ the way he was looking at you. That hum, usually a perceptible buzz of background noise was reverberating in your chest; his body almost shaking with it, even from across the room. His thoughts were dizzying; you were alone in his room, so close to his bed. So close. And you were here for the night, _here for him_. He eyed you up like you were prey to him: and that made your mouth water.

"I told you yesterday: you don't know what you _do_ to me".

You crossed the room slowly; putting in effort to drag your boots across his metal floor in deliberate motions. He was going to have to work for it. Prove it.

As you reached him, you stopped. Your eyes drifted to his lips; imperceptibly trembling, the Force giving away his game. You could feel the fire raging in his chest; his willpower weakening. This was a game to you both, now. The honey hue of his eyes was barely visible under the darkness of his pupils; taking in your movements, looking down at you with barely controlled hunger.

You licked at your lips, stretching up onto your toes as you leaned in, your lips dusting at his ear with the syllables.

"And I told you: I do".

His body shook, air escaping from his nostrils in a sigh that shook his shoulder blades. Fuck. You could feel your words twisting at his stomach; feel the way heat rushed to his cock with the motion. He was in silent torment; desperate to just rip off your uniform, to fuck you at his wall, to have you touch him. To have your name on his lips, just like he'd pictured it last night...

Your brow cocked, biting your lip with intrigue. Blush spread even further across his features; his hands flush at his sides.

"Oh, fuck you", he whimpered, his lips crashing to yours as his hands moved to crush you to him, bending his back to lean into the kiss. Your veins ached; your tongue seeking out his, savouring the taste of his mouth like you might drown in it. Your hands wound up into his hair; pulling at the waves that fell at the nape of his neck. _Yes_ ; he loved that. His entire body tensed, and you felt his dick hard against your stomach as his arms pushed you close, closer. But he couldn't get enough; his breath coming in pants as his mouth moved to your neck, sucking at the soft skin just below your jaw. His teeth were hard against it, and you hissed in a mix of sharp pain and intense pleasure.

 _"Ben"_ , you moaned. That only spurred him on further, his nose nudging at the collar of your uniform to leave more hickeys on your neck. While he did, your trembling fingers made light work of his cloak; the heavy material falling to the floor and revealing his padded shirt, the wide span of his shoulders. He smelled incredible, as always; leather and soap and _Ben_.

"I want..." he huffed, pulling back from you between breaths to bring his calloused fingers to your uniform. The buttons were fiddly, and he cursed under his breath, frustration pulling at his features. You half expected him to just rip it off of you; but he didn't. He persisted, working them with the same careful determination he gave to everything with you. Even when he was letting go, he was still present: still very much aware of how huge he was, how powerful he could be. You were beautiful, unstoppable: but delicate, too. Fragile.

Once he released the last one, he tossed the military-issue jacket aside: your bra and high-waisted pants now the only thing clad to your skin. He paused for a moment; pushing back to take you in, lips parting as his eyes widened. He threw his gloves off without so much as taking his eyes off of you; his gaze dead-set on your collarbone, your cleavage. Your face grew hot, but instead of crude grabbing, he lightly brushed the back of his hand against the soft skin at your chest. The response was immediate: the Force flowing between you both in a way that knocked the air from your lungs. _His_. You were _His_. And you were the most beautiful thing in the galaxy.

"You old romantic", you mused. You haphazardly undid the clasp on your belt, pushing your pants off of your legs in a flurry of movement. He audibly groaned: his hands reaching around to cup your back, squeezing the flesh on your ass, his nails digging into your skin like a man possessed. He was pushing you against him, his body already unconsciously thrusting, his hard dick pushing into your wet underwear and sending trembles through your spine. You leaned back, the back of your knees colliding with the bed as you allowed yourself to tumble back onto the black sheets.

He wasted no time; licking his lips as he pulled at your bra, the clasps coming free with the motion. He tossed it aside impatiently; immediately pressing the soft flesh to his lips and sucking at the nerves there. You moaned, and you felt him smile against you; his teeth nipping at the skin with feverish desire. Through the haze, you tried to pick at the buckle on his waist; but to no avail. 

"Can you...I have no idea how to..."

Kylo Ren chuckled at that, the vibration against your skin making you tense. He had no intention of letting go of his mouth peppering kisses at your skin; but the belt unclipped anyway, seemingly clattering to the floor of its own accord. You wondered if that was considered improper use of the Force, or whether Jedi got their kicks from stuff like that.

"Both".

Ah.

But he seemed to pause; then. His hands less steady; he sat up as if to pull off his padded shirt, but bit at the thought. And in this proximity to him, there was no question as to what he felt as the Force flowed through his movements: insecurity, nervousness. _More Ben than Kylo_ , he thought. It shouldn't have surprised you, really: he had felt insecurity when you met regarding everything, from his face to his thoughts. But he was so beautiful, so utterly enrapturing. Why wouldn't the rest of him be?

"Ben", you panted, swallowing "if you want to stop, it's fine. Honestly, I-"

But he didn't. He wanted nothing less than that. His eyelids fluttered as he pulled at the fabric, pushing the long coat-like shirt over his arms and tossing it to the side, revealing his bare arms and torso. He didn't look at you; his eyes to the floor, letting you get a good look at him. As though he anticipated you wouldn't _like_ what you saw; as though you'd reject him offhand.

How wrong could he be?

"Shit, you're...gorgeous".

He was, honestly. He was huge; his shoulders sweepingly wide. But fuck, it worked for him like nothing else: his stomach rock hard and chiseled, as though from marble. The same freckles that decorated his face were scattered along his torso, and you couldn't not stare. And those arms; those beautiful, beautiful arms. Years of fighting and battle had given him strong shoulders, corded with muscle. Some bruises and scars dotted his frame, but they did nothing to blemish him.

You couldn't help yourself as he knelt over you; your hands traced the hard lines of his stomach, and he tensed, sucking in a breath. Oh, he loved the feeling of your hands on his stomach: a place he'd never been touched like this. Never. His insecurity began to melt with your wandering eyes, your soft hands. In its wake, desire returned; his mind a flurry of want and need. He kicked off his boots and socks with little to no effort, your hands then helping to slide his leather pants down his waist. They hitched on the hardness of his cock, and he looked absolutely flustered; biting his lip with the sensation. But once he'd kicked them off: _fuck_. 

"Force, I..." you moaned, taking him in. His cock was...well, any insecurities he'd have about it would be misplaced. It was pushing at his boxers, rock hard and bending upward slightly to his stomach. It looked inviting; and you reached out to grasp the length through the material.

" _Oh_ , fuck".

Kylo Ren's eyes practically rolled back into his head as you squeezed it; the warmth making you drip with wetness and wanting. You couldn't wait any longer; and you pulled down his boxers, eagerly moving the length against your palm as he knelt over you. Oh, stars: you could _feel_ what it was doing to him. Every pump of your hand was making him nearly convulse with pleasure. You swore the lighting of the room dimmed as you flicked your thumb across the head; but you dared not ask. His mouth strayed open with pleasure; his being buzzing with life and desperation. And so when you shuffled to your knees and wrapped your lips around the tip: he cried out, the suction of your lips nearly sending him over the edge then and there.

You gave him a moment, his eyes squeezed shut before you moved him into your mouth, jaw working to fit as much of him as you could. Shit, you could taste precum on his skin, and your clit ached. You were dripping, wanting, desperate.

"I...how are you...oh, _Force",_ he sighed. His hands wound into your hair, and you hummed against him in approval. You felt him twitch, hardening dangerously. Realising you didn't want to push him too far, you released him with a pop. He desperately crushed his lips to yours, holding himself above you as not to hurt you; and all he could think of was how you were surely too good to be true. His hands shuffled down to your underwear, removing it with one fluid motion and throwing it across the room. He moved back to take you in as you collapsed back onto the pillows, hands pulling out your bun and letting your hair tumble forward.

Oh, he was practically drooling as he took in what he saw between your legs; the wetness already running down your thigh. His lips cocked upward into a devious smile, dimples pressing to his cheeks like a man possessed. He felt a brief moment of uncertainty about how to go about this, but it was eclipsed by resolve, determination. He was Kylo Ren, Commander of the Knights of Ren. Heir to the Empire. A prince by birth. A warrior by discipline.

And he was going to make you _scream_.

His fingers brushed against your clit, and you cursed under your breath. Slowly, he massaged it; two of his fingers slipping inside with a sound that made his knees weaken. You had no idea how someone who had been so isolated could be so...so fucking proficient at touching you, at knowing where to move his hands. Fuck, it was madness. His digits curled against your nerves, and you cried out in desperation.

"So wet, fuck. All for me?"

You laugh, nodding as you motion for him to keep going, _please_ , keep going. But he's toying with you; and you feel your muscles ache in protest as he pulls his fingers out. 

"I hate you", you groan, biting your lip as your toes curl.

He just laughs darkly, his hair tickling at your thighs. What is he?

"Oh!".

The moan escapes you, your spine arching as you thrust into his tongue, he's licking you, devouring you, pushing the flat of his tongue against your clit as he sweeps across the skin. You ache, so close to the edge, so close to undoing under his mouth. He hums against you, and fuck, it's as good for him as it is for you. The taste, the feel - his dick keeps brushing against the bedsheets, and it's throbbing in protest. You look down, and he's watching you through his dark lashes; his waves pasted against his forehead with sweat. And with another brush of his tongue against your clit, you cry out; the world spilling forwards. 

_Ben can't imagine anything tasting sweeter than this; feeling your body spasm against him, undoing as he tastes you on his tongue. Your face is pure ecstasy, and his cock twitches, begging him to feel you. He feels your presence so keenly in that moment: your mind is in his, and he knows it's not on purpose. He's never seen anything like it; and it's new and terrifying. The lights flicker wildly, and he grins, giving one last lick as he savors the sweet taste of you. You're here; in his mind. And he can't help but wonder whether it's-_

"Woah". You bit your lip, clenching as the waves of orgasm left you, your mind your own again. That was heaven; and you felt as though you were floating, giddy and happy and wondrous.

"Force, I-" he swallowed, "I've never wanted anything more than this. Fuck. And you're on..."

You nodded, feeling a lightness in your chest. So many partners would never consider to ask; but Kylo Ren, Commander of the First Order: he wanted you to be safe. And something about that was just...everything.

You pushed up weakly, forcing him to arch his spine to kiss you. You could taste yourself on him, and somehow, that reignited that wanting in your chest. His honey eyes took in your lips, your body. Savouring. Devouring. He buried his mouth against the crook of your neck, shaking as he pushed his hard dick against the wetness on your thighs. He sighed; the sound leaving you breathless and giddy as you felt him, felt the Force aching through him.

And with his hand guiding him, he slowly thrust into you.

His moan was ecstasy in your ear, his breath hot on your neck as you gasped from the sharp pain. Oh; he was stretching you, his dick harder and bigger than you'd thought. He rasped a sorry, tears welling at your eyes as he hesitated, pulling out and thrusting in again. This time; your whole body shook with pleasure, gasping and rattling your bones. Stars dotted your vision as he thrust into you: his body shaking, his mind an utter mess. He was so vocal: his hands balling into fists as moans of pleasure racked his body with every new push. Stars above, you were in heaven.

"Ben...fuck, you're amazing. Force, you're...this is incredible, Ben".

You were babbling, your lips pressing against his cheek as his hair fell across your face. You didn't mind one bit; and your nails dug into the thick muscle at his back. His teeth dug into your collarbone, lips sucking at your skin in blissful frustration. As your nails raked down him with his thrusts, he felt his cock swell dangerously, his thrusts growing more desperate as he leaned to move further into you, more decisive strokes.

It took barely five of those before you were close to the edge; and he felt it, too.

"Don't you come..." he panted "don't you dare until I'm there with you".

Something about that, the low growl in his voice as he panted it into your ear; oh fuck. You felt his pain as your nails grabbed at his back; and he moved from sucking your collarbone to eclipse your mouth with his. His hair was everywhere, but neither of you cared. Shit, neither of you cared about anything but the sensation, but getting to the edge. You were desperate; your toes curling, teeth bared in absolute craving. Feeling this, he snapped his hips, thrusting hard and fast; utterly pushing his body against yours. You moaned loudly, muscles spasming in orgasm right as he cried out, an elongated sound of pure bliss. You felt the pump of warm liquid filling you; your body alight as the navcomputers beeped wildly. Everything distorted: a bright, white light surging forwards, the Force exerting some sort of flash in your periphery.

Ben's breath came in short pants as he lay on top of you; both of you plastered in sweat and cum, aching and shaking and panting.

It was bliss. It was everything.

_"In all my wildest thoughts, I could never have imagined something so wonderful"._

You smiled, overtaken by exhaustion and confusion. His words were in your head, his voice in your mind. So clear and distinctive that it may as well have been pushed from his lips: but no. Ben was muffled against your neck, and his breath was still coming in thick pants. They must have been his thoughts: so clear now that they rang out in your mind.

 _"This is new"_ , you mused. Oh, but your words rang out in your head; or rather, in _his_ head. Where he began and you ended had become decidedly less clear, but you didn't mind at all. With a careful, tired movement; Ben slipped out of you, leaving you breathless as he rolled over, collapsing next to you on the pillows. You tilted your head to look at him: your breath stolen by the look on his face. Much alike the dream you'd had of him by the docks; he looked radiant. Healthy. The tilt of his smile lighting his whole face, igniting the Light within him.

He reached out, wrapping his solid arms around you and pulling you close, nuzzling his forehead against yours. Your bodies pressed together, warmth radiating between you as your hand pressed to his cheek.

 _"Did you enjoy that?"_ he asked. The question was a non-question: of course you did. How could you not?

_"There isn't a word for how much I enjoyed that. Too much"._

He lit up; his eyes crinkling at the corners. You were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, laying there on his bed; too beautiful to be real. He was waiting for this all to be a dream, a dream he'd never want to wake up from.

 _"I'm not going anywhere",_ you cooed. You pressed a kiss to his swollen, plump lips: thumb stroking at his cheekbone. He brought his calloused hands up to eclipse yours, lashes fluttering as he took you in. He smiled knowingly, dimples pressing into his cheeks.

_"And that means more than anything. More than life itself"._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing this and I'll never be sorry  
> ALSO I BET YOUD LOVE IT IF THE STORY ENDED ALL HAPPY AND DREAMY RIGHT HERE  
> HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
> 
> You  
> Are  
> Not  
> Prepared


	15. Judgement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Be silent and safe — silence never betrays you;   
> Be true to your word and your work and your friend;   
> Put least trust in him who is foremost to praise you,  
> Nor judge of a road till it draw to the end.” 
> 
> \- John Boyle O'Reilly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Implied torture, violence, murder. Whoops. A pretty heavy chapter.

_"I've signed on for conscription"._

_You could barely look up, your gaze affixed on the hydrospanner. Across the track, you saw crowds bustling: humans, rodians, ilthorians. A plethora of faces, cheering and jostling in preparation for the oncoming derby. The garage was fairly quiet, with only basic protocol droids welding at the broken machines._

_Tarna-Sul's yellow eyes creased at your sudden admission. He hadn't seen this coming - no doubt it felt like a betrayal. You'd been at the bike shop since you were ten years old: he'd raised you, trained you. Given you everything he had. You were, in some respects, his daughter. The only daughter he would ever have; the only person he trusted with his burdens. But like everyone in this dump of a moon: you wanted out. The New Republic Military was the safest ticket; that much was certain. Better than ending up working for the Hutt or the Exchange, anyway._

_"...You're leaving?"_

_You clenched your teeth, feeling your eyes sting dangerously._

_"I wish I could stay. But I just...I can't. The galaxy is too big; there's too much out there. I'll never forgive myself if I stay. And...the money-"_

_"-No. I won't take a credit of your money, Little Moon"._

_You turned; standing up in one fluid movement. You remembered a time when he towered over you, scooping you up over his shoulder with no effort at all. But now, you cut an imposing figure: your body hardened from years of work._

_"Without you, I wouldn't be here. I'm going to join the military, do my time, see the galaxy: and then, I'm going to come back for you. Take you out of here. Give you a happy life, free from debt and worry"._

_Tarna-Sul smiled sadly, his eyes welling up._

_"I'm so proud of you, Little Moon."_

 

* * *

You buried your face against the pillow, stretching your bare legs in the silky sheets as the haze of sleep began to fade. It took your mind a moment to get your bearings: the bed too big to be your scratchy cot on the Finalizer. But then, breathing in the scent on the pillow; it all came back to you again. Trilium soap, leather, cedar: Kylo Ren's smell clung to the sheets, setting your blood alight.

You smiled sheepishly, marveling at the pleasant ache in your body, the tenderness of your neck.

"Ben?"

Blinking, you rolled over; to your dismay, the bed was empty. Perched at the foot of the bed; two folded towels and a scrap of paper, folded cautiously into a little square. You smiled at that; plucking up the note and unfolding it carefully. Cool air tickled your arms as you took in the swirls of handwriting, familiar and lovely:

_"Couldn't bear to wake you. You looked serene, curled up in my sheets like that. I'll see you tonight. Already miss you. - Ben"_

Oh, your heart sang. He was wonderful; so, so wonderful. When you'd met him, you'd never assumed he'd be such a romantic; that he'd open his heart so willingly to you. But already, you felt his affection so keenly in his words: in the way he held you with tender wonder as you drifted into sleep last night. Ear pressed against his chest as he buried his face into your hair; holding you as though you might disappear at any moment. He spoke in his sleep, you realised: and you awoke at some point to him feverishly repeating your name, slick with fear, sweat plastering his forehead. You hushed him, stroking his black locks in your fingertips, and he seemed to settle; the Force revealing more peaceful dreams. Calm lakes and blue skies. Birds and green fields, stretching out to the horizon.

With a yawn, you reached for your communications pad on the beside table; hand tapping the cool surface with a shiver. A feeling overtook you as you read through the recent communications: all vague notes directing personnel around the ship. Nothing directing you in any particular manner; but it seemed the medical bay had been pinged a few times. Something about that just...didn't sit right with you. As though the Force was reaching out to you, telling you something was wrong. A knot in your stomach, a crease at your brow.

Picking up your discarded uniform from the floor, you hastily scurried into it: pulling a brush through your hair and going through your routine with speed. Stuffing the note Kylo had left for you into your breast pocket, you gave one last look in the mirror; gasping a little. The hickeys on your neck were stark purple, absolutely angry against the grey of your uniform. You pulled up the collar of your jacket for good measure, making sure they were covered to the best of your ability. If anyone asked - you'd been wounded in martial.

Marching through the corridors, you noticed an unusual number of personnel bustling around. The deck was full of officers: too many senior personnel bustling about. You exchanged some pleasantries, before your eyes met with Yehn; striding the other way at some speed. You flagged him, turning to figure out what the frack had gotten the whole crew so worked up.

"What's going on, Yehn? Did Hux space another officer?"

A look of panic crossed Yehn's face; his eyes widening.

"You don't know?"

Your blood felt cold: ice water in your veins.

"Spit it out, Yehn".

He shuffled, swallowing. You saw his chest hitch as he tried to speak; his usually talkative personality dimmed by something dangerous. The words left his lips in a slurry, and you felt as though you were falling forwards: your mind retching, compacting in on itself.

"There was an incident...a Resistance spy infiltrated us. They won't say who, but...H'Seth is dead, man. Kathar got shot. I don't know what happened. It was all so fast, one minute I was working Bridge and the next there was blaster fire on the lower deck and-"

You clutched your stomach, throat aching in defiance. Shit. You felt as though you were going to hurl. The world seemed to blur, threatening to make you topple into the middle of the access corridor, hitting the black metal of the floor. But Yehn's arm steadied you; dark eyes full of fear.

"Is she alive?" you croaked.

Yehn nodded "she's alive, but she's in a bacta tank. They got the shooter and have them in the holding cells. What I'd give to go down there and blow that fucker out of an airlock".

You straightened, body moving with a sudden purpose. Yehn's hand slid off of you as you marched away from him: turning on heel towards holding. Because you knew, somehow: deep down in your chest. How hadn't you seen it before? That silence, those knowing glares. The warnings. Proximity to Hux. All of it. It was like ice water in your face.

_"Sorry, Lopi. I guess I haven't been sleeping too well recently"._

_She nodded, her lips creasing into a thin line. Always so serious: so cautious._

_"You have to be careful."_

You barely even noticed the officers saluting you as you descended through The Finalizer; your mind working with perfect clarity. Your status would buy you entry to those cells: and after that, you'd let this take its course. You'd do what needed to be done. What was it the First Order had drilled into you? A more ordered galaxy? More structure, more enforcement? Well, perhaps this was your chance: your chance to get some fucking enforcement.

Arriving at Holding, the door automatically slid open: revealing a scene you found difficult to process.

"This is your oversight", Kylo Ren spat through his modulator. Hooded, masked, gloved hands trembling with anger: it was easy to forget not hours ago he was vulnerable, curled into you in sleep. Now; he loomed as Hux's beady eyes tried to burn through his mask, red brows dipping down into a snarl unlike that which you'd ever seen.

"You dare to presume my guilt in this?! My hand only reaches so far as the dossiers allow, Ren. Surely you should have foreseen this action."

Kylo Ren seemed to be vibrating: his hand twitching at the hilt of his lightsaber clipped in his belt. Waves of anger radiated from him; pure, deadly. Terrifying. You recognised _this_ Kylo from months before, and once again you were reminded of just how dangerous he could be. Just how unpredictable.

"Meaning?"

Hux leered, taking a step closer to Kylo. His lips pulled away from his teeth, exposing a cruel expression on his pale face.

"Your _distraction_ has served us all poorly. You alone have the opportunity to see their motivations. And you squander it away for _nothing_ ".

You can barely take in the situation before you hear the crack of Kylo's blade unsheathing, crimson light thrown against the walls in a sudden flurry. Hux is thrown off guard; hurrying back away to get out of range of Kylo's huge swing. A powerboard sparked off; yellow sparks flying from the destroyed computer. You made a noise: and Kylo's head snapped around to you.

The three of you stood there: unmoving. Unchanging. Regarding one another with fear and suspicion; the Force bouncing between you all. Hux was enjoying this whole charade: you had walked in at a perfect time, the perfect moment. Kylo was in complete, singular torment: anger, pain, shame. His desire to destroy and humiliate Hux was being superseded by outright hopelessness at this situation. You must have looked terrified, because Kylo sheathed his blade with a flick of his wrist, still twisting the saber in his palm.

"Commander. General. I..." you coughed, your voice sounding ridiculous. Fear was laced into your tone, and you immediately flinched at the sound. Force, it was degrading: walking in with such dedication to asserting yourself and being silenced by the General and Commander going at one another's throats. 

You felt Kylo's agony like a heavy weight in the air; and you couldn't help but wonder what could have occured if you hadn't just walked in. What consequences might have befallen them both, had their tempers allowed them to go at one another. But right as Hux opened his mouth to sneer another provocation; Kylo stalked through the nearest exit, out towards the Bridge. The door snapped shut behind him, leaving you and General Asshole to eye the walls in uncertainty.

"You weren't summoned, Captain. I presume you have a good reason for interjecting in private affairs".

Ugh. So much for stopping Kylo slicing Hux a new liver. You felt regret pinch at your stomach for every time you'd let Hux get away with being dickhead number one.

"Apologies, General. I heard-"

"-what you heard is none of my concern. My concern is dealing with this... _mess_. Not with your haphazard notions of revenge, or whatever passing motivation you've taken on today".

_Mother. Fucker._

" _General_ ", you spat, your eyes leveling with his in a sudden burst of rage "I had no intention of involving myself with First Order _politics_. Considering I am a Captain in this organisation, I believe protocol gives me jurisdiction to move freely on this ship. Your protests to the fact can be made to Commander Ren, if you're feeling so inclined. But I'll be exchanging words with your captor, as per my  _right_ in this role _you_ assigned me" _._

Hux's amused expression absolutely dropped; his lips curling over his teeth as though he were posessed by some otherworldly force. His boots clicked on the floor, arms clasped behind his back in typical fashion: his eyes seething, burrowing into your skull, making your throat ache. As he moved to pass you, he leaned in: his breath tickling at your ear, teeth audibly gritting on his words:

"Do what you like with that traitor. We have all the information we need. But know this: you'll both meet your ruin, Captain. All things come to an end. Some sooner than others".

* * *

 

Hands still shaking, you keyed your passcode into the communications pad: mouth dry as you mulled over Hux's ominous warning. Was he talking about you and Lopi? Or was his tone dripping with contempt for Kylo, for what he knew about your affection for him? You felt very ill: this whole day was turning into a horrible mess. Everything felt as though it was spinning out of control.

The door sputtered, and you braced yourself. Nobody else had logged into the cell: so whatever you needed to do to Lopi, you could do it. No questions were ever asked, here. People die. Things go on. Cool air blasted from the other side, engulfing you as you blinked off the dryness in your eyes.

"Adrian?" you choked.

Strapped down to the chair, jaw tight in defiance: Adrian looked you dead in the face. His typical shy demeanor was nowhere to be found; rather, his dark eyes displayed a casual confidence. Blood matted into his hair, soaking into the uniform still adorned to his form. You could barely breathe; nothing was where it ought to be. A mess, too difficult to understand.

"Was wondering how long it'd take before they sent you in".

Your palms slid to your sides; hands clenching into fists so hard your nails dug into your palms. The Force bounced off of Adrian in a way that made your heart ache: as though his mind was too open. Cracked in half, spilling out thoughts like blood seeping from a wound. You didn't want to think about why that was; the whole thing was unnatural. It was breaking your heart, filling your eyes with unwelcome tears.

"You...you're the Resistance spy? You shot H'seth...Kath?"

His jaw worked, eyes dropping to the floor for a moment before resting on yours. You felt remorse spill forth, oozing from his mind.

"I...yes. I shot them. I didn't mean-"

But his words were interrupted as your fist connected with his jaw, a dangerous-sounding crunch echoing through the metal room. He cried out in protest, spitting blood on the steel and staining it crimson.

"YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!"

You stumbled back; shocked at your sudden outburst. But not remorseful: stars, you were not even slightly remorseful. He had shot your best friend, one of the only people in the world who ever gave a damn whether you lived or died. He was lucky you weren't shooting him in the skull, as far as you were concerned. Both of you panted as he worked his jaw, a sickly bruise already appearing on his cheek.

"You'd better start talking".

Adrian looked annoyed at that. He rolled his shoulders, arms twisting in his restraints.

"I already gave my testimony. I don't have to tell you _anything_. And besides: they'll kill me anyway. I've come to terms with it. I'm not getting out of here alive".

Instinctually, your hand reached for your blaster, cool against your touch. Disengaging the safety, you pushed the barrel up to his head; his eyes following the motion as the metal pushed against his temple.

"I can make this quick", you snarled "or I can make this slow."

Adrian laughed coldly, the sound leaving his lips in a mocking tone, slick with defiance.

"It's funny", he licked his lips "you're more like him than you think you are. A match made in heaven. At least he _knows_ what he is-"

"-Don't you fucking dare. Don't you dare start on me!". You thrust the barrel even further to his temple, forcing him to crane his neck. Tears started spilling over your cheeks; stinging as they left trails on your face.

"She's my best friend! She cared about you! And you... _you_ shot her! For what? For politics? Is that what the Resistance is doing now? Shooting people in cold blood? You want anyone to respect your cause when you're gunning down innocent lives when we're at gridlock in a cold war?!"

"You think she's innocent?" he scoffed, gritting his teeth and spitting more blood onto the floor "you think any of us are?! I've seen what General Hux is building. Starkiller base. A system-destroying weapon. She's been vital to those plans since she got here. Coding the system, programming the cannons. You think that's an empty threat, do you? That Hux built a superweapon as a countermeasure against the Republic? You think this  _Supreme Leader_ is teaching Kylo Ren tap dancing lessons? You're not stupid, so let's drop the act. We both know the First Order are supported by the Dark Side. We both know where this is heading".

Your stomach dropped.

"You've been sending transmissions all this time. To them. About everything".

Adrian nodded: no remorse left in his mind. He was proud of this. He would die for this. He was on the right side of history, bringing down a corrupt order from the inside. This would be a legacy that the Resistance would know was worthwhile.

"And you know the crazy part?" he asked, his head moving forward to show the sticky blood pooled at the back of his neck "You. It's always you, isn't it? See, I thought it was all pretty odd. You show up, fresh out of the Republic. Get taken in as a Lieutenant. You save Commander Ren's life - getting out with almost nothing to show for it. Your blaster firing is terrible: but your dossier doesn't reflect that, does it? You shot your close friend three times when he went rogue for the Exchange, and none of those missed. And then I get a report that some _Captain_ destroyed a sith holocron and _lied_ to Armitage Hux about it. But still, you've got loyalty that can't be bought, right? You're a communications officer, and you're good at your job. But-"

"-Stop."

"-then I got someone to look up your discharge forms for the Republic. Two years in the New Republic military? It's unheard of, unless you're dishonorably discharged. But then; well, that's when it all clicked-"

"SHUT UP!" you sobbed, biting your lower lip with your teeth. _Shit_. This was horrible. You just wanted this to end. You dropped your hand to your side, and Adrian took a shaky breath.

"I didn't tell him", Adrian added, his voice suddenly quieter than it had been during his ramblings "but if he tries again; I don't know whether I'll be able to resist. I don't know what I might say: I don't know how many people might suffer for it". He licked his lips, "so, here's the out: shoot me. Do it now, do it quickly. While I've still got my wits about me".

You felt your body wrack with a sob; so desperately wishing this wasn't happening. That you were somewhere else, far away from here. That you were still in that bed, curled up to Ben like a lifeline, stroking his hair as he drifted through sleep. This was everything you'd never wanted to go through, and all you could think of was the nightmare you'd had, weeks ago, where the darkness enveloped everything. Even you.

You palmed the gun in your hand; looking down at it.

"You know who he is, don't you? That day we talked about the bet you all made on the Bridge. You said he was the son of a Republic senator. Who's son, Adrian?"

Adrian swallowed, motioning for you to raise the blaster to him once more. You did; your finger trembling on the trigger as you pushed it back against his temple. He seemed to suck in a breath, his eyes fluttering in silent thanks.

"He's Ben Solo. His mother is Leia Organa. Resistance General. War hero. Daughter of Darth Vader".

And then, there was silence.

* * *

 

_As you leaned up against the walls of the Senate Chamber; your breath hammered in your lungs. You had been gathering data on the Amaxine warriors for weeks: and your body had seen the strain. Fleeting from camp to camp, wracked by sickness and stress. The Republic were otherwise interested in their petty struggles between Populism and Centrism: with very few senators willingly listening to those of you scrambling about for intel. Everything was hush-hush: and even now, your back against the wall as you stared up at the orange sky: Hosnian Prime still didn't feel safe. Too open, too cosmopolitan. Sometimes, you did miss the crushing weight of Nar Shaddaa's atmosphere: a simple life. Easy._

_You felt lonely. Training was...intensive. Echani combat, linguistics training, medical. It was never dull here. But you ached for something grounding. Something more._

_"I still feel lonely here, sometimes."_

_A woman shuffled beside you, grey hair plaited atop her head meticulously. Her robes indicated status, and you realised she must be a senator. Her name escaped you, but the more you looked into her brown eyes, the more you felt you did know her. Flecks of honey dotted her irises, dimpled cheeks crinkling as she took you in._

_"Is it that obvious, ma'am?"_

_She chuckled, looking out to the horizon._

_"Growing up, you always think you know what you want. And then, sure, you get a little older" she smiled, gesturing to yourself "but then, the galaxy always has other plans. And you get used to feeling like you're being shaken upside-down more often than not"._

_Somehow: that did help. You folded your arms, rubbing your hands against them to comfort yourself. Your uniform felt scratchy, head full of sawdust. But maybe that was okay, for now. Maybe it was all just a route to where you needed to be._

_"I keep thinking I'll catch my breath, I'll get used to it. But I'm not sleeping. It's like I can feel the galaxy moving, people desperate for our help: and I'm just helpless. I just want to find my place in it all."_

_She clapped a hand to your back, eyes softening as her lips crinkled upward._

_"My son used to say he'd close his eyes and feel the planet hurtling through space. But I used to tell him to just...be there. Breathe. Accept it. Some people are just more in touch with it than other people: the Force has plans. And that's okay. We're all struggling to accept what is. And that's fine."_

_You took a deep breath, nodding slowly. The senator took a step away as a speeder zoomed into view; the driver motioning to her to climb aboard._

_"Senator Organa!" he called out to her._

_You shot up, your eyes widening in surprise. On seeing your reaction, she shrugged: a knowing smile crossing her features._

_"We can only do our best" she breathed "I get the feeling your best is more than enough"._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOAH. Okay, that was so heavy. But uh, yeah! Feel trip anyone?   
> Oh hey and this was pretty technical, so it's Glossary time!
> 
> Glossary:
> 
> Amaxine: These warriors were aligned with the First Order. Leia Organa found evidence of this and it caused a lot of strife for her.
> 
> Centrists: Desired power to be more consolidated in the Republic. Bigger military, more law and order enforcement.
> 
> Populists: Desired power to be more consolidated in single planets. Planets should retain their individual militaries, laws, traditions etc.


	16. The Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, everyone needs to be taken care of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Panic attacks! But this chapter is full of love, character development, romance and caring. Sweet Ben is sweet.

Her chest rose up and down, her heavy breaths scratching in her lungs as you watched on through teary eyes. Kath was unbelievably pale: white bacta bandages stained red around her waist, barely covering the huge wounds in her stomach. Her face was calm and unburdened in the medical bay, no trace of consciousness decorating her features. She'd been out cold for a good many hours; and Dr Sontiro was sure she'd be in that state for a good many more. It made you _ache_ with grief, your soul burdened by regret and pain. If you'd been there, been quicker, been more vigilant. Been prepared.

Been the friend she needed you to be.

Dr. Sontiro placed a hand on your shoulder; giving a comforting squeeze. You were shaking involuntarily, your body still in shock. Blood spattered on your cuffs - Adrian's blood - and the metallic smell wouldn't leave you. It was all wrong. None of this should've happened. 

"You're doing so well, you know". She gave a soft smile, her dimples pressing into her cheeks with genuine affection. She looked tired, too: she'd worked tirelessly to stabilize Kath, and had done a tremendous job. You'd been here for the better part of the day shift; not leaving Kath's side. You had duties, but you did what you could through your datapad. And considering the events of the morning, you doubted anyone would push you for reports. You were dangerously close to the precipice - of what, you weren't sure. 

Your hand reached out, fingers brushing Kath's arm. Her skin was cool to the touch; shocking you with the sudden reality. Your eyes spilled over, then - the dam breaking, your shoulders heaving as your breath slipped out of rhythm. 

"I-I c-" you stuttered, sobs wracking your frame. Dr. Sontiro immediately rushed to your side, hushing your sobs with her soft tone. But somehow, it wasn't getting through: your brain finally having enough of everything. It had been an insane few weeks, a terrifying few days. Your throat cracked, an inhuman sound escaping your lips as you pushed your head into your hands. The world was spinning, your mind in a state of utter panic. Dr. Sontiro rushed to fill a glass of water, attempting to soothe and coax you: you reached for the plastic cup weakly, pressing it to your lips with shaking hands. The cool liquid soothed your throat, but did nothing to ease the pain in your mind; agonizing panic rising in your chest.

"You're okay, you're okay. You're having a panic attack. It'll pass". Dr Sontiro's voice was soft but firm: authoritative but supportive. It helped some, but you needed more than kind words. You needed to be somewhere safe, to wash this blood off of your sleeves. Sudden claustrophobia hit you like an overclocked speeder, the med bay feeling unfamiliar and dangerous, small and constricting. You tried to gasp for air, but found yourself crumpling to the floor: the chair slipping out from underneath you as your consciousness started waning. You felt warm hands at your back; Dr. Sontiro trying to help you, trying to get your breathing under control.

"I'm-m-m s-sorr-y" you gasped, your lips pressed against the cold floor. You had no real idea why you were apologising: but the guilt and fear were overwhelming. Your eyes were starting to sting from all the tears, making your eyelids puffy and red. Shit, this was _not_ fun. You heard a noise: strangely familiar, like the hum of a swoop bike starting up. Comforting. And Dr. Sontiro seemed to stumble to her feet; her hand lifting from your back suddenly.

"Commander!" she interjected in surprise, her voice stunted by the sound of blood rushing in your ears. "She's collapsed. There was-"

But Dr. Sontiro's words blurred into the background as you felt warm gloves under your body; pulling your weak form off of the cold, metal floor as though you weighed little more than a doll. You blinked off the fluroescant lighting, and found yourself staring at a familiar masked face: cloak draped around his profile like a halo of darkness. Instinctively, you thrust your arms out to loop around his neck.

"B-Ben", you whispered, tears streaming to your cheeks as you leaned into him, sobbing into the crook of his neck. Strands of your hair stuck to your cheeks with tears as you breathed in his familiar scent; trying to get it to calm you, to ground you in reality. You were held close to his chest, one arm supporting under your knees whilst the other supported your back.

_"I've got you. I'm here"._

Cool air hit your skin as he moved, lights passing over your vision through the darkness of his cloak. You felt self-conscious as you realised you were no longer in the med bay, but moving through the corridors as he strode with you in his arms. Voices seemed to silence as he passed, your shaking form held to his chest in a way that suggested you were someone of value to him. This only further sparked anxiety in your chest; pulling at your senses and making you want to disappear into him.

 _"Let them think what they want. I'll rip asunder whoever I need to"._ It might've sounded forceful if it came from his modulator; but it was clear as a bell, ringing out in your mind with his familiar tone. His thoughts were defensive, staunch: but you could feel his need to protect you went beyond anything. You needed him, and he wouldn't let a damn thing happen to you on his watch.

You heard the clicking of a door as you shook; feeling Kylo duck under the threshold of a door. He seemed to flick his wrist under your back, and a light flickered to life. This room was warm and familiar: tiled walls, humid atmosphere. He gently bent down, letting your legs find the solid ground beneath them. You were still weak, but your boots found purchase on the floor as you stumbled to be upright, blinking off your tears. Kylo's hand reached for yours, squeezing your fingers affectionately as he reached for the clasps on his helmet with the other hand, pulling it off and letting his dark waves tumble out. He let the mask fall to the metal floor, giving you a moment to take in the scene.

Oh. You were in the bathroom that adjoined his quarters, leaning against the huge basin near one of the walls. The lights were dim, but your eyes made out a huge shower; black paneled with a complex looking control panel.

Kylo's face leveled with yours as he bent down slowly, arching his back to assess your condition. His face contorted - pity, compassion, understanding.

"Give me a second", he breathed "I'm just going to let go of you for one moment. Is that alright?"

His words came with such affection that you felt your heart ache, tears streaking your cheeks again. His gloved thumb reached out to wipe them away as you nodded, shoulders shaking as you took in an uncertain breath. He released your hand, and the lack of contact suddenly made you feel very isolated; which you internally chastised yourself for. What was it about his touch that gave you that last thread of comfort and sanity?

He chewed his lip as he dialed something into the control panel, gloved fingers working out of habit. Water spurted from the tap, a cascade of streams softly falling like rain to the black tiles. The room suddenly smelled beautiful; blueblossom and black lilies, the lighting of the room dimming further to a soft peach glow. For the first time, you felt your breath returning, the calming lights and scents filling your lungs.

Kylo's gloved hand found yours, pulling you toward him. You still had no words: whispers of thanks lost on your tongue, in the dryness of your throat. Fear still weighed heavily in your stomach, and you could see in the softness of his eyes: this was something he understood. A reality he lived every day, crushing his spirit and breaking his resolve. He carefully worked at the buttons to your uniform, and you sniffed: helping to peel off your blood-stained clothes with shaking hands and a taught jaw. Even as you shrugged off your clothing, you found yourself feeling _filthy_ ; as though the blood was smeared into your skin.

Naked and weak, you rocked on your heels as Kylo's hand found the small of your back, tenderly pulling you through the glass door and into the shower. He was still fully clothed; his uniform already getting spattered by water as he moved his hands to caress your body, rubbing the scented water into your skin. The warmth of the water was so soothing, your muscles instantly starting to loosen at his touch as he stared at you tenderly. If circumstances had been different - Force, he would've indulged himself at how beautiful you looked. But now; you could feel from him was his adoration, his desire to see you feeling safe again. His hair started soaking through; dripping trails down the nape of his neck, sticking his cloak to his body.

"You're safe now. I won't let anybody hurt you."

His voice was soft; little more than a tender whisper, his hands rubbing water into your hair in some sort of massage. Oh; it was wonderful. Tenderness oozed from his every action; his brown eyes glinting with gold in the low light of the bathroom.

"I don't know...know what came over me". Your voice was still shaky, but better. It sounded familiar to you again, and that was a little boost of confidence.

"You don't need to explain", Kylo cooed. He tousled your hair, the water soaping it up under his gloves. One of his hands worked at your hair while the other stroked your cheek, his eyes watching to make sure he was washing you with care. He couldn't seem to meet your eyes as the words left his lips; and you knew it was because this was all very real for him. How often had you felt that undercurrent of fear, that tide of anxiety? The bags under his eyes from years of sleeplessness, silent tears pulling at his face? Of course he understood. Better than anyone else.

"I killed him", you swallowed. "I killed him; shot him with my blaster. And I-"

"-I know."

Your fingers twitched, your unsteady arms reaching out to loop around his waist. He tensed; but his hands moved to pull you close, holding you to his chest and stroking your hair with a soft motion. You were both drenched; dripping and aching under the floral water, his lips pressed against your forehead as his eyelids fluttered shut. You wanted to stay like this forever, in this room. His heartbeat in your ear, steady and loud against the drumming of the water.

"I keep seeing his face when I close my eyes. I thought it'd get easier, after the first time. But this was just as hard. Does it ever get easier?"

Kylo Ren didn't respond right away; but you felt him shake a little, gripping you tighter to his solid form. He didn't have to ask what you meant: of course he didn't.

"Only if you're willing to become a monster".

* * *

 

"I made you something".

You looked up, and Kylo felt a smile pinch at his features. You were sat at his desk; reclining in his chair as your eyes drifted out of the window. Your hair was still damp, but your body flowed with a simple dress robe that dusted your ankles. The Force flowed through you in a way that still kept him on edge, still kept his mind working to protect you. From anyone else. From yourself.

Your eyes drifted to his, the colour sparking in the dim light as you folded his book in your lap. Something you'd picked up from his bedside table to soothe your mind: A History of the Republic. He'd read it back-to-front several times; and while it was educational, it wasn't anything special. Still, you had sat there for some time while he saw to a few things, darting in and out of his quarters to give and receive orders. It physically pained him every time you left his sight, but today had been long, even for him. 

"You...made something? For me?"

Oh, your voice made his head spin. Got him all giddy, sending Light and life through his veins. It was dizzying, unbalancing, but _Force_ ; he was finding it harder and harder to hold fast to his training anyway. Your presence was draining the Darkness from him, which was a double-edged sword. But he pushed that from his mind, because yes; he'd made you a gift. A gift he'd worked harder on than he'd like to admit: a project as much for his sake as it was for yours.

"Close your eyes", he muttered.

You swallowed, a smile peaking at your lips as you pulled your fingers across your face. He strode over; his loose pants swaying at his ankles as he moved to your side, opening the drawer of his desk. He took the metal object from its resting place, bending his back to level with your patiently waiting form. He had to make a conscious effort not to let the Force give his game away; because _shit_. Your minds were entangling; drawing together to some end yet unknown to him. Since yesterday, he could feel your thoughts acutely; and he wasn't sure what that meant. 

He knelt behind you, his breath dusting your neck as he peppered kisses at your collarbone. It shot electric shocks through his bloodstream as he felt the pleasure radiating through your bones; a simple action bringing you to melt at his touch. He held out the gift in his bare hands, nerves pinching at his stomach. Kylo had to admit; he'd worked hard on this. His fear of being rejected offhand seemed to creep up on him more often than he'd like, but he shook his head, black hair flicking at his cheeks.

"Here".

Your lashed eyes fluttered open and he nuzzled your cheek, holding the saber in front of you in his bare hands. You audibly gasped; soft fingers tracing the hilt in disbelief. Oh, he couldn't stop the grin rising on his face as he felt your awe; you _loved_ it. He'd made it with care: the parts picked out with you in mind. The hilt was sleek silver, wound with a grip made to fit your hands. The activator was subtle and sleek, designed to be thin and work like the vibroblade he'd seen you train with. He'd had a few problems finding a good emitter; so he'd made his own, working hard to iron out the kinks. He'd missed this; designing lightsabers, diverting himself to a project.

"Ben...I've never been given anything so beautiful. This is..."

Kylo bit his lip, turning the grip to fit into your hand. He guided your fingers to the activator, showing you where to position your thumb. Your hands were soft against his own, excitement palpable in your movements. Your hand slipped onto the activator, and a buzz filled the room; crimson dashing off of the walls, the blade pulsing to life with a buzz. He moved his hands to your shoulders, squeezing them in encouragement as you tilted the blade, admiring the movement. Oh, he'd done so well: he could see the blade was stable, moving well. It lacked the pulsing of his own blade, the crystal being stable; not needing crossguards to divert the power. 

"It's crimson because the crystal was bled, but I...know that might not be what you want. And if that isn't, we can find you a healthy crystal. There are plenty on Ilum, we could-"

The blade sheathed as your lips pressed to his, your tongue darting out to his lips. Fuck; would he ever get used to this? He was so overwhelmed every time you gave him the slightest attention. It was as though all the sensitivity he had to the Force was diverted to you, a singular presence in his mind. You were rain in the desert; soaking him, refreshing him. Igniting something in his chest. He nipped at your lip, his hand flicking across your shoulder blade. He hummed against your lips, trying - and failing - to fight the smile dusting his features.

"It's perfect. I love it. I love...I love it more than anything".

The way your voice caught on those words...his heart stopped, for a brief moment. Just a brief infinity, stretching onward. Here you were, in his arms: your lightsaber in your lap, his face so close to yours. You both beaming, alight with a fire in your souls. And the way your voice had caught on the little inflections, that trip over your words: what had changed? What was it that made his heart sing when he held your eyes with his own, when he had you in his arms? But more worryingly: why did he feel his heart speed up, his palms sweat, his stomach heavy with lead-weighted fear?

Somehow; he already knew. The feeling might've made anyone else jump for joy; sing from the jungles of Dxun to the cities of Onderon. Made them happier than they'd ever been. But Ben Solo? He grabbed onto you for dear life; embracing you in a tight hug as silent tears started pooling at his eyes. His hands held you close, his mind intentionally shielded from yours; a closed door. Because he was terrified: terrified and drowning.

_"Love is the ultimate failing", Snoke hissed. "It is a weakness so profound; a festering wound. It must be cut out, or it drains all."_

_Kylo Ren had nodded; his masked face staring up at the eyes of his master._

_"I will never succumb, Supreme Leader. I will love nothing. I will never let myself weaken to it."_

 

Liar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is my favourite chapter I've ever written. I'm so excited by it. I'm prone to panic attacks, and I definitely see Kylo as being someone experienced in pain and anxiety. 
> 
> Glossary: 
> 
> Black Lily: A flower! I bet Kylo Ren loves them because they're hella goth
> 
> Blueblossom: A pretty flower that's super expensive and grows on trees.
> 
> Emitter: It's basically the thing that connects up the power and the blade. If you put it on badly you can just blow up the whole blade. But Kylo's pretty experienced in building stuff.


End file.
